His Window
by She Dictator
Summary: All he wanted to do was make things right. - - A companion piece to my story "The Bleeding Door".
1. 00: Introduction

**This is the story for Steven Kiriyama's point of view. I decided to make this a story of its own because for some reason a lot of readers just skip over the "His Window" chapters (despite them containing lots of valuable info) when it was part of _The Bleeding Door. _So, instead of continuing to put them in my main story, I'll post them on their own. But anyway, this is in third person unlike the rest of the story, it's very short and in no way reflects the length of the future chapters of His Window. Enjoy!**

**Dedicated to Anon-nom-nom and Keyarayek for the request!**

**Love,**

**She Dictator**

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00: Introduction

He can't believe it.

Her face flashes behind his eyelids every time he blinks. Those wide brown eyes full of pain and confusion and anger. Her face ashen, all color draining from it as shaky hands move to cradle her bleeding, mortal wound. Lips parted in a strangled gasp, an unheard and unheeded cry for help.

The quarters in his pocket feel much heavier than they should. The tiny tinkling sound they make sounds like someone is banging pots and pans together. He's very much aware that those little silver coins are there; shoved in his front pockets, dotted with a red fluid that belongs to that hot-headed girl who refused to back down.

Air rattles in his chest as he sprints down the deserted street. Streetlights seem to shine directly at him, exposing him for his crime. Feet stumble to a halt as he clutches at his chest, at the blood soaked t-shirt that sticks to his skin with its damning warmth. He's conflicted as he leans against a street post, lungs heaving for air.

Should he go back? Call 911? She could still be _alive_!

Running a hand over his face, he quickly jerks it away with a grimace. Blood smears over his eyes, his lips, his nose. It stains his skin, brands him. The coppery stench assaults his nostrils with the faint scent of laundry soap and something else.

Patchouli? Roses?

_Her_ scent.

Eyes hard and burning and jaw set firmly, he turns around and freezes. There's a bright light, blindingly so, at the end of the road. Is it a car? No. The ethereal light glides down the road with alarming speed, dances up the sidewalk and splits. One light darts into the building he was just fleeing while the other moves on; towards him.

Regaining his senses, he attempts to flee but it's much too fast.

It approaches swiftly, soundlessly, until it's right on him. Then he hears the screams. Shrill shrieks of pain and wails of agony. The bright white fades to fathomless black but the voices don't stop. The screams seem to dig into his brain like knives, scraping against his skull and stabbing behind his eyes. His head is on fire, his body is on fire, but he can't move a muscle or cry out in pain.

His heart stutters and he squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that this will all just end.

He believes he's gone to hell for what he's done. For stabbing that girl and leaving her to die.

Mercifully, he loses consciousness.

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***** This story will be updated after _The Bleeding Door. _So, say one week I update BD, then the next I'll update HW.**


	2. 01: Dreamer

**Because I have received a few questions about what the heck happened to Kiriyama, this is where our story will start. Each little segment of **_**His Window **_**will show what Steven Kiriyama is doing when he's out and about, away from Mina. **

*****This chapter takes place after the chapter "Lady Luck" in _The Bleeding Door. _From this point on, the chapters between these two stories alternate.**

**Love,**

**She Dictator**

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01: Dreamer

I know she sees him in her sleep.

The first night after I scoped out Antiva City, I came back to find her whimpering, curled up in a tiny ball in a tangle of sheets. I was irritated at first, seeing as how she was in _my_ blankets, but that feeling quickly disappeared when I felt something in the room with us. I'm not a superstitious man by any means, but I thought it was a ghost at first with how the temperature seemed to drop.

Then she said it. _His _name.

"Carrow." she groaned, those ridiculous green eyebrows furrowing.

Her small body thrashed as I went to her and then she stilled. The temperature in the room rose and she opened those large brown eyes that often haunt my dreams. With a jolt she scurried out of my blankets, a blush on her face. I couldn't help but smirk at how easily flustered she was.

"Kiri! You're back." she gasped.

What a dumb, girly nickname. I don't know why she insists on calling me by anything other than Steven. She probably wouldn't like it if I called her "Solis" all the time. But I knew there were more pressing matters at hand... And that she still didn't trust me enough to tell me about her dream.

"Yes, I'm back."

She looked at me expectantly but when I didn't say anything else, she frowned and looked away, rubbing her scar with a knuckle. I wanted her to stop touching it. She's always touching it and it makes me feel terrible to think that she got those scars all over her body because she was holding off the demons. Keeping them from _me_.

In an attempt to keep her from touching the expanse of jagged, pearly flesh across her face I said, "I was out looking for a place for us to stay. You know we can't stay here for much longer."

Her hand fell away to her side and I almost sighed with relief.

"Oh, come _on_! We're fine here!" she argued, "We'll just keep scaring away Bartlett's debt collectors until they're all happy and paid and then everything will be okay."

"And after his debt is paid you expect that he won't just get himself into debt all over again?" I asked, crossing my arms.

Sometimes I can't believe how naïve she can be.

She glowered, "If he does, then I'll give him to the collectors and they can take their pick of his organs."

And other times I can't believe how incredibly violent she can be.

I snorted and tossed my bag to the floor before undressing. She didn't even flinch. Is it so terrible that we're completely used to seeing each other half-naked after having to strip down in front of each other so many times? The better question would be "Is it so terrible that I think of her as a gender-neutral being"? I could never admit that to her, though, considering how sensitive she is about things relating to physical appearance.

"Will you be disappearing often?" she questioned, settling herself into her own blankets.

"No." I replied offhandedly, "What were you dreaming about?"

"Hm? Oh, I was just dreaming about cake. I haven't had a nice slice of tres leches in _ages_." she grinned.

That was a lie. On both our parts. And we both knew it.

Though she looks at me with a bit of fondness and worries about me incessantly when we take the pirate whore's jobs, I know that she will never see me as a friend and therefore will never confide in me. And I can't say that I blame her. I just wish that she would trust me enough to tell me about things dealing with that blonde bastard.

I shrug off my traveling cloak after a tiring journey to a place called Ghislain. My satchel seems to weigh a ton as I fumble with its strap. The warm, comforting smell of burning wood fills my nose but it doesn't make me feel any better. I've been to so many different villages and cities but I can't find a single place to stay. Nothing seems far enough from the mage.

"Oh! Hey, you're back again."

I'm pulled from my thoughts as Mina grins at me from our new table. She's sitting on a chair, legs crossed as she sharpens a couple of daggers with a whetstone. The blade comes too close to her fingers several times before I snatch the blade from her and do it myself.

The sturdy chair feels wonderful on my aching back as I lean into it and work on the daggers. I can feel her eyes watching me before she shoves away from the table. A flash of green darts by me and the room starts to glow with the warm light of the fireplace.

She stokes the flames to life and hums a depressingly familiar pop song as she puts a banged up kettle on. I turn to watch as she tugs my satchel away from me and sets it by my new bed before unwrapping a half-eaten loaf of bread and some dried meat and cheese. She embarrassedly scrapes away a dotting of green mold before handing it to me.

"Sorry, it's all we have." small hands saw away at the stale bread with a dull knife, "Isabela hasn't dropped off our cut from the last job just yet."

_Our _cut, she says.

Is it her goal in life to make me feel guilty? Does it please her to constantly wave it in my face that she's the one working and making money while I'm off on the road? That the only thing I bought with her was a table while she went off to buy us chairs and beds and a second-hand armoire with clothes to fill it up?

I snatch the knife and bread from her and take a bite. Those large eyes narrow into two glittering slits as she rocks back onto her heels. She waits a moment, giving me the opportunity to apologize, but I remain silent. We're so close together that her hot breath hits me when she exhales angrily.

"Yeah. Nice to see you too, jerk."

She turns abruptly and marches over towards her corner of the room, lies down on her bed and throws her blanket over herself. Her back is to me, and I gaze at the delicate slope of her torso as it tapers off into her waist before gently flaring at her hips. She's lost weight. Too much, it seems, when I spot her boney feet peeking out from under the blanket. They rub together before she pulls her legs up.

Always, she's always sleeping in the fetal position.

I force myself to slowly eat more bread and meat after shaving some cheese onto it. It's the closest thing I've had to a real meal in days. In order not to get sick, I pace myself despite the urge to wolf down all the food in this hovel. I'd like to say that that's the only thing keeping me from eating all the food, but the truth is that I feel guilty. All the time. In fact, every time I have to see Mina's face it's like a punch to the gut.

Rubbing a hand across my face, I look into the fire. I wouldn't mind being blinded if it kept me from seeing the thinly veiled accusation in those haunting brown eyes. I wouldn't mind going deaf if it kept me from hearing that voice that screams out in pain in my worst nightmares. I wouldn't mind dying just to get away from her. But I owe her. I owe her another chance at life.

The problem with that, though, is that she seems dead set on blowing this second chance away. For both of us.

Reckless, she's so incredibly and stupidly reckless. Though she says her uncle taught her to fight, she always leaves herself open to attacks. Isabela and I discussed it when the dark haired woman was attempting another foolish act to seduce me. We agreed that we needed to keep a close eye on the girl; that if I was to disappear for a few days she would watch over Mina, and vice versa.

I don't question her dedication to Mina despite only knowing her for a few short weeks. Clearly, the woman has been bewitched by the green haired girl. It must have happened when the salty tramp knocked me unconscious in Denerim. Mina must have been startled, frightened, and she captured the pirate's mind.

I remember her trying to do it to me, once, before I first showed her my ability. She was frightened then, as well. It felt like a soothing balm on my mind, like I was the most relaxed I had ever been in my life; but it was smothering when she began to speak, to try to persuade me that I was crazy. I fought back, of course, and her control over me easily slipped at the first sign of resistance.

It seemed to have an adverse effect on her, punishing her with the actual, real feeling of being smothered if her heaving chest and wide, glassy eyes were anything to go by. That encounter with her ability had confirmed a fear of mine; that my power has adverse effects on me as well.

I'll admit that my ability tires me greatly; even more so when I drag Mina along for the ride. After every trip I feel drained, like I've just finished a marathon and then went on train for a martial arts championship. But I don't use my ability as often as the girl. She used hers to enchant the pirate she so fondly calls "Cap" and to make our useless host open his home up to us. Frustratingly enough, she pretends like she doesn't do a thing.

I won't believe that.

The subtlety of her power is startling. Sometimes, if I don't catch it quick enough, all it takes is one look and I find myself doing what she wants. She has the potential to become extremely dangerous, which is why I think Dermot Carrow has been visiting her so often.

From her mumblings, I can only guess that he's trying to find her greatest weakness. It's frustrating how easily he can contact her. But what's more frustrating is that she allows him to. She could easily wake up and end the dreams but instead she chooses to let them progress; and no amount of water on her face or shaking can wake her up when Carrow is there, in her head with her.

Her heavy breathing reaches my ears and my skin starts to prickle despite the warmth from the fireplace.

"Nngh... Ma..."

My choice has been made for me, it seems. I need to find the mage and put an end to this before something bad happens. Either he'll find some sort of weakness- some vital information- or he's using her as a beacon. Quickly, I snatch up my satchel and my cloak. For all I know, he's tracking our location this very instant.

Pulling the strap of my satchel firmly across my chest and straightening my traveling cloak, I spare Mina one last glance before I focus on the thrumming of my blood and head off to Amaranthine.


	3. 02: Snare

**In which I give away a lot of information. Remember that metaphorical flashlight with the metaphorical batteries scattered around the metaphorical dark room? Well, I just plugged those batteries into the flashlight for ya!**

**Shout-out to Pint-sized She-Bear, Keyarayek, LiudvikasT, Sara-hold-the-h and SuiteHeart52 for their hilarious reviews!**

***An update! If you check out my bio, you can click on a link that will take you to my shoddy deviantArt profile where I have a picture of my characters. Keep in mind that I'm no artist, so... Yeah. My brother is going through some artistic troubles and is revamping his Carrow drawing; which of course means I got impatient and quickly sketched my own.**

**XoxOXoOx**

**She Dictator**

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02: Snare

The mansion, as he called it, is nothing more than a hollowed out shell of a home. Scorch marks blacken the gray stones and all of the windows are busted out. In stark contrast to the dilapidated building, I find an immense garden overflowing with all sorts of colorful flowers when I circle around the back. I can't help but wonder if Mina would like it.

Cautiously, I enter the two-story mansion and begin my search for the blonde bastard. The place appears to have been looted at some point as I sidestep shards of what once were fine plates, burnt tapestries and silverware that has been melted to the dirty floor. This mansion seems to have been the epitome of opulence once, but now it's nothing but a ruin.

Grand portraits crookedly line the walls of the main hall, bearing an assortment of bland faced men- young and old- with dark hair and even darker eyes. Something about their faces is reminiscent of the mage. It's in the eyes, I think, with how they appear almost dead. The dusty plaques below them all have the same name "Dermot Carrow" followed by a numeral.

Each man has three portraits dedicated to himself from what looks like early adulthood, middle age and the point in their lives when they became withered and useless. I manage to see six paintings of the psycho's predecessors when I come upon two pictures with the faces burned out. The plaque says "Dermot Carrow III". I move on.

As I pass through the dining hall I see all but two chairs lining the table are burnt black. They are side by side and look to have never been touched in years. The cushion of the leftmost chair has a strange looking mark on its velvet cushion. Extending two fingers, I try to brush away the unusual substance but it's hard and flaky and won't come off.

I'm about to go to what looks like the kitchen when a noise at the other end of the room catches my attention and I notice, for the first time, a staircase. Taking a breath, I pull one of my daggers out before heading over towards the stairs. Narrow, stained-glass windows depicting a small bird wrapped in vines bathe the staircase in red light as I ascend the steps.

Wind whistles through this level. The second floor is all black. Ash floats in the air and the floor groans when I step onto the landing. Any doubts that this place was once on fire disappear as I peek into each room. Everything is destroyed. Each room looks like a skeleton with nothing having survived the fire. As I move along the hall, I actually _do_ see skeletons.

Two skeletons- one large and one small- lie in two different rooms. They're in the middle of their beds, curled up as if asleep, enshrined in a canopy of ash and ruin. The bones are scorched black with the sinewy remains of flesh petrified along them. Disgusted, I move on only to come upon another room that's almost untouched.

There are scorch marks near the foot of the door on the rug but that's all. Shelves nearly exploding with books line all of the walls; three extravagant tables covered in strange tomes are pushed to the farthest wall near a few square windows and there's a gray blanket folded neatly on one of the many plush chairs that ensconce the dead fireplace.

The air here is unsettling.

"I was wondering when you would finally come to your senses and return to your rightful place." a chilly voice sighs.

My eyes dart towards a darkened corner of the room and I'm shocked to see that I had overlooked my greatest threat. Cold blue eyes stare directly at me as the mage cradles a thick book in his skeletal hands before snapping it shut and walking forward. He offers me a chastising look before gently placing the book on one of the tables and crossing his arms.

"Where is our dearest Mina?"

"Don't talk about her." I growl.

He chuckles, "I can talk about her all I like; she _is_ my creation you know. More so than you, dear man."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, lowering my blade so as not to startle him.

This man, if you can even call him that, is unpredictable. He doesn't seem to have noticed yet that I'm armed and I'd like to keep it that way. Carrow glides over towards the chairs and covers himself with the gray blanket. The fabric looks scratchy and uncomfortable. It stirs something in the back of my mind but I can't quite place it.

"Lies upon lies upon lies." the mage drawls before slowly lowering himself into the armchair, "You aren't a _demon_, are you? You're just a man, Steven Kiriyama. A vulnerable man from another realm, yes, but a vulnerable man nonetheless."

He snaps his fingers and the fireplace roars to life, its bright light making the psychotic mage's harsh features even harsher. He's lost even more weight, if possible, and his eyes appear bulbous in his skull. I stiffen when he beckons me forward but am compelled to take a seat. How could I have forgotten about his influence over me?

A soothing, enticing energy pulses over my mind and I feel my eyelids droop. I've always been susceptible to his power and it angers me to think that I've bowed to this man before. My legs move on their own accord and bring me closer to him. Fortunately, I'm lucid enough to take the chair furthest from him.

He nods approvingly before staring into the fire, "I'm sure you suspect that I've been in Mina's dreams."

I nod.

"You're a very intelligent man, Steven. I admit that I've been visiting her, but once I felt your presence here in Amaranthine I decided to leave her alone for a change." he shrugs halfheartedly, "Though I've already taken what I need from her, mind you."

I frown, "What do you mean? What did you _take_?"

"Oh, my apologies!" he chuckles into his hand, "Poor wording on my part. I haven't taken anything from the dear girl, per se. I've only witnessed all that I needed to see. She's quite an open book, that Mina; so unlike you." he chuckles again but this time it's hollow and humorless, "I couldn't ever get into your head. My curiosity got the better of me and I delved into Mina's mind to try and figure out the reason. I can safely say I got more than I asked for."

Anger flares at Mina's foolishness. I don't even want to know what she showed him, what she allowed him to see. Knowing her, she most likely compromised us for a few fleeting moments of happiness. Her selfishness knows no bounds but I can't be too hard on her. It's my fault that she's here, anyway. That _we're _here.

Carrow continues, "She showed me her entire life. I was quite surprised by what I saw in those memories of hers. Do you know everything about your dear companion?" his cold eyes slowly turn to me, "An educated woman; though not of noble blood since she was born into poverty. Given up by a mother as selfish as she in favor of an unborn bastard conceived out of a scandalous affair. She was taught combat skills but remained careless despite her insistence that she's perceptive. That carelessness brought about her untimely death at the hands of a criminal." his eyes seem to burn my skin as he pauses, "_Your_ hands."

My breathing is ragged as I try to contain my anger, my hatred. I'm about to speak when he cuts me off.

"Do not try to defend your actions; that would simply bore me. And do not tell me that you are a reformed man. There is no such thing."

I know he's trying to demoralize me. He wants to weaken my mental state in order to try and gain more control over me. But I won't let him do it. I'm here on a mission and that mission is to end this mage's pitiful life once and for all. Tightening my hold on the hilt of the dagger, I prepare to strike. But his next words boil my blood and make me reckless.

"You cannot kill me, dear man." he smirks, "I took that option away from you the night I strengthened our _bond_."

I'm taken back to that night that Mina and I tried to escape; how he knocked her unconscious behind my back and had demons drag the elf and myself down into the dungeons. My heart felt like it would explode as I watched him sweep her bloody form up in his arms. I worried for her when I should have worried about myself. Chained up and vulnerable, I couldn't do a thing as he plunged a dagger into my chest and pulled a light from me. He bottled it up and it turned red like blood and I felt hollow. I _feel_ hollow.

"Liar!"

Leaping up, I slash at him but my joints seem to lock just as the blade stops mere inches from his throat. Fire explodes all along my body and I clench my jaw, fighting back the urge to cry out in pain. I feel as though I'm being ripped apart as blood pounds harshly in my ears to the point that I think my head might split open. He watches on, bored.

"I _told_ you. This would be much more fun with Mina, considering I had to reconstruct part of her soul in order to bring her over." he sighs wistfully before flicking his wrist and sending me flying back into my chair, "The pain would be greater. I'm no sadist, but you must admit that you two deserve it after lying to me so."

"What do you mean…? You reconstructed her soul?" I gasp out, muscles twitching after that attack as my head throbs.

He pulls the blanket closer to his body before closing his eyes, "Unlike you, she was dead when I brought her over; her soul had already partially left her body. While yours remained intact during the realm transfer, hers was mostly destroyed. I inadvertently tied her to me by sacrificing my own magical blood which then made her whole. Though you are both a part of me, she's more closely linked to me than you." he brushes his long fingers over his pale brow, "It does not bother me too much, since my blood makes her sturdier than you. Honestly, man, why must you use your powers to such excess? I've already had to replenish your life force _six_ times!"

I frown at this, "My life force?"

He huffs irritably, "Must I explain everything? I completely take back my previous statement about you being intelligent." sitting up straighter, he fixes me with a stern look, "Your power isn't natural for your non-magical body. You are no mage; therefore you shouldn't be in possession of such powers. But since you _do_ have powers, the usage of such abilities greatly weakens your body. Hence the constant need to restore you."

"Will I die if you don't?"

"Of course!" he laughs, "But you needn't worry, dear man. I still have great use for you so I will not allow you to perish."

He's still going on about the Circle of Magi? I don't know why I'm so surprised considering the man is a raving lunatic. But this new information is more than just a bit disturbing. My life is quite literally in his hands and I can only guess that the same applies for Mina- only it applies tenfold considering her soul is somehow _intertwined_ with his. That must be the reason why she's able to use compulsion and deflect Carrow's attempts at controlling her. It's also the reason why she's so easy for him to access at his leisure.

"You still plan to overthrow the Circle?" I ask darkly.

"Yes, I do. But sadly, in the time that you and Mina have wasted prancing about Kirkwall, it has already begun to rebuild. Unfortunately, this means that we must summon more forces."

My heart ices over.

"More?"

He nods and stands swiftly, draping the blanket over the back of his chair. I watch as he moves around the room, collecting books and picking up an ornate wooden box. Carrow returns to his seat and dumps the books into an empty chair before nipping the tip of his finger with his chalky teeth and placing his bleeding finger on the box's lock.

The air in the room seems to ripple as he opens the box to reveal a white cushion with two small, corked vials resting on it. With a twist of my stomach, I realize what the red fluids in the vials are just as he picks one up and examines it. He smiles lovingly before turning his gaze to me.

"Summoning you two was a fluke on my part, I must humbly admit, and I'm afraid I won't be able to do it again without a little help." the vial is rolled between his pulsing palms and I ache, "This part of you should do the trick to summon another helper and I'll use Mina's as well. I'm so glad that I took this small fraction of your essence. Soon, my dear Kiriyama, we will have two new warriors fighting in this noble endeavor."

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**Hey! Sorry to say but this is the **_**only update for this week**_** since I have a film project that requires all of my attention. Wonder what Carrow is talking about? Care to take a guess? But ya won't know for sure 'till the next chapter of **_**His Window**_**!**


	4. 03: Waste

**WARNING: For gore and bits of torture**

**Shout-out to Sara-hold-the-h, Keyarayek, Pint-sized She-Bear, Sin Piedad and Annie Anonymous for their wonderful reviews! Also, thanks to all of my followers who continue to offer up their silent support!**

**xoxo**

**She Dictator**

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03: Waste

It doesn't take very long to collect an adequate amount of sacrifices. Guilt throbs in my heart as I patrol the cells in the dungeon, refusing to look at the men who call for help and curse me. They're all soldiers. According to Carrow, there have been a lot of soldiers crossing the country from Denerim to other parts of Ferelden by order of the king to help rebuild the nation after the end of the Blight. The mage grasped this opportunity with gusto.

We took them from the trails, all twenty of them. One by one so as not to cause alarm amongst the troops; sometimes we would take them in pairs. We would split up with one of us grabbing a solider further down the road than the other. Two or four men would simply disappear from the group and the others would just think they got lost and they expected that those missing would show up later. They never would.

"How are our guests?" Carrow's frail voice floats down from the staircase.

I look over the scowling and cowering men before ascending the steps. Carrow waits in the kitchens which are littered with the charred remains of the staff. He sits on a crate as he leafs through a book that probably weighs more than him. The mage is always reading books and writing in journals. Once, when I tried to read one of his journals, I found that it was written in some strange language. Latin, maybe? Then again, this is Thedas.

"They're fine."

"Still making threats and begging for freedom?"

I nod, "Yes."

"Good!" he snaps the book shut and gestures for me to follow, "That means they haven't lost their hope. As long as there's hope, there's spirit! They're practically synonymous, you know."

I don't respond. I never actually have to respond unless he directly tells me to. I've realized that the man will often times talk to himself, murmuring about strange things and speaking in tongues. He exits the kitchens and I follow him into the dining room and up the steps to his sitting room. The place is cluttered with notes and drawings and marked-up books; the room of a researcher.

"Twenty men in good health. Twenty able bodied men ready to give their lives for something greater than themselves." he whispers excitedly.

Standing in the doorway, I watch as he shuffles through a pile of scrolls before plucking one out and placing it on top of a strange book- his favorite book made of flaky leather. Boney hands clutch the items to his chest and his blue eyes lock with mine.

"Bring the saw."

The saw. Right. He made me go into town a week ago to purchase one. It leans against the wall next to the fireplace; unused. I shudder to think what its purpose is in all of this craziness. But no matter how crazy this gets, I'll stay. It's my curiosity that drives me to stay and see this through. I want to know exactly how Mina and I came into existence here. I also want to keep a close eye on the lunatic.

He's been busy with this project and content with my compliance thus far. I like knowing where he is and what he's doing and that he's miles away from Mina. As long as this project keeps him busy, I know he won't have the time to bother the girl in her sleep which puts me at ease. Then again, there's no possible way that she could give away any more information than she already has.

Saw in hand, I follow him back down the steps and have to shake ash out of my hair once we're in the only place that isn't full of soot: the basement. The blonde mage ushers me down the corridor and to what was once a large area for wine and alcohol storage, but has since been completely cleared out. The stone floor is slick with moisture in the dank room and the musk of mold is heavy in the air. Carrow already had me prep the room with an abundance of torches, so not an inch of the makeshift dungeon is left unseen.

Metal teeth scrape against the callused skin of my palm and I look down at the tool. Hazel eyes reflect back at me in the shiny surface and I let it drop to my side. The waiting is killing me.

"This way. Yes, yes. Good."

Blank faced men stumble through the doorway as Carrow ushers them in like sheep. They're all eerily calm compared to the rowdy crowd behind bars that I had seen just moments ago. One by one they're all positioned in a large circle before Carrow beckons for the saw. My brow crinkles but I step forward anyway. His pale hand is clamped down on one of the men's shoulders and I can see him feeding some sort of dark energy into the soldier.

He takes the saw, "Now for the tricky part. I'll do the messy bit while you keep watch. Alert me if one of them is about to die."

I'm about to ask what the hell he's talking about when he lifts the tool and begins sawing away at the man's arm. He doesn't even flinch. The soldier's tired gray eyes stare ahead as blood pours from his arm. The sickening sound of crunching bone fills the air and my nostrils flare at the coppery stench as I stand there, stunned, as the crazy bastard removes one arm, then the other and then makes the man lie down so he can have at his legs.

"There. Now, drag the torso to the center. Make sure there's a substantial amount of blood trailing from the outer ring to the middle." he orders as he finishes removing the man's limbs and moves on to the next.

Heart pounding, my lips tingle as my entire body goes numb. From his position behind one of the other soldiers, Carrow gives me a withering glare. I need to take a page from Mina's book and continue to do and say everything to make him happy. It's not as though accessory to murder is the worst crime I've committed. Steeling myself, I drag the man's torso to the center of the ring.

I'm surprised he hasn't died yet. Then again, he isn't really bleeding so much. That must have been what Carrow was doing when he was pouring energy into him; keeping him from bleeding out too quickly. Just when I've begun to cope with the situation and accept what's expected of me, the man seems to snap out of his stupor. It's a haunting sound; the sharp, strangled intake of breath as he realizes what's been done to him before he begins shrieking and crying hysterically.

Can't look at him. Won't look at him.

Two, three, four, twenty. A cacophony of voices bounce off the walls and the putrid stench of blood mixed with urine fouls the air. There's no going back from this. Carrow stands beside me and begins to sing in that strange language of his. The singing reminds me of when Mina would hum and sing songs from home; some of which I knew and some I didn't. I never realized how much I appreciated that little reminder of home. But this song isn't familiar nor is it comforting. It's dark and depressing.

He shifts beside me and I watch as he opens the vial. _My_ vial. The liquid shimmers like silver until he smears it between his palms. Breathless, I watch as he utters the final syllable and rips the skin of his palm open with the sharp teeth of the saw. The blood of twenty men mixes with Carrow's blood and my essence. Everything turns a blinding shade of white for a few seconds before fading.

An explosion sounds in the back of my brain and I collapse to my knees. Vision blurred by red, I look down at my shaking fists to see them flicker in and out of sight. My entire body seems to be stuck between teleporting and staying in the dungeon. Carrow notices this and swears harshly before muttering some words. Darkness encases me until the pain fades, then I'm back in the dungeon and heaving for air.

"What the hell was that?" I hiss, standing shakily.

Carrow walks to the middle of the room and I realize that the men are all gone; only their limbs remain. His shoulders slump and he wipes his hands down his face.

"Such a waste."

I couldn't agree more. Such a waste of life and for what? He turns around slowly, fixing me with a dead-eye stare.

"This is your fault."

I blink "My fault?"

He sighs and shakes his head, "No matter. I must research this further. We will be successful next time. I swear it."


	5. 04: Reaper

**WARNING: For implied torture and violence that some might find disturbing.**

**Shout-out to Annie Anonymous, Pint-sized She-Bear, Sara-hold-the-h, Outlaw Vaan, ziry, Catherine and ihas no clue for their reviews! I would also like to thank everyone for the favorites/follows; I'm very thankful for the support.**

**xoxo**

**She Dictator**

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04: Reaper

I dab at my nose with a handkerchief, wiping away the trickle of blood there. Ever since the ritual my nose, eyes and ears have dripped with blood. Sometimes I would even cough up red fluid, but that stopped after a couple of days. Carrow said that it was to be expected since my "mortal form" had nearly been compromised. What does this mean? I don't know. But the flow of blood has subsided greatly since the day of the ritual and it has almost completely stopped.

"We need mages." he murmurs distractedly as he thumbs through a heavy tome, "We need more magic and less sacrifices. You will need to teleport us to the Circle. We will do it tonight. We cannot afford to waste any more time, my friend."

I don't know why I'm still here.

"We shall bring Mina along. She will prove to be most helpful in swaying the mages to come along with us."

Right. _That's_ why. Carrow has this deep fascination with the girl that I think stems from them being spiritually connected. She's all he talks about most days when he isn't brooding over our last failed attempt at summoning a person. He still blames my "bad blood" for the debacle and I still blame myself for all of those senseless deaths. Despite his jabs, though, I stay if only to deter him from going after her.

"No. She's busy." I snap.

He sighs exaggeratedly, "You _always_ say that! 'She's busy, she's busy, she's busy'! What could she _possibly_ be doing that is more important than this?"

His pale eyes glow angrily in the dimly lit room and I move to start a fire. I can feel those blue eyes stabbing into me as I calmly rearrange the timber in the hearth. Lately the blonde bastard has been more impatient and unpredictable. He has these raging mood swings where he either sulks in the study or storms about the manor, throwing things and setting rats on fire. But it's so simple for me to calm him down; he's so much like a child and being around Mina gave me enough experience with such things.

"She's trying to be independent. You know how she is; Mina is always trying to prove something to someone." I lie but he gobbles it right up with a hearty laugh.

"Oh, she's ever so droll! There is a lot of spirit in that one." he chuckles, "Quite humorous! I cannot wait to use her essence and see what it produces!"

I'm banking on her "essence" producing nothing like mine. Hopefully she'll just get a massive headache and that will be that. But I do admit that a small part of me wants something to happen. Carrow closes his book and swipes up his traveling cloak which he wraps around his slight form. He looks at me expectantly and I rise from my squatting position by the fire. I'm rewarded with a giddy smile as he grips my forearm with his cold hand and we appear on a grassy knoll in front of a massive tower. Water sloshes behind us and I glance back to see a dock.

"And here we are." the mage smiles wickedly, "I must refrain from annihilating this blasted prison. Though, I admit it is terribly tempting." he closes his eyes tightly and sighs, "Another time, another time."

"Let's go." I grunt, trekking through the knee-high grass that sparkles with moonlight.

He hums in agreement and I hear his robes swishing through the reeds and flowers. I see two armed men and duck down before they can spot me. Holding up a hand, I signal to Carrow that there are guards up ahead. He quirks a brow and rolls his eyes before dropping to his knees and crawling over towards me.

"There won't be too many guards since the Circle is still rebuilding. Most of the mages were killed during the uprising, therefore not a lot of guards are currently needed to supervise such a small number." he frowns and taps his chin as one of the guards yawns, "They will be quite annoying, though. Templars are self-righteous creatures who believe they are doing the work of the Maker. Ha! As if these lowly pigs could possibly have the _Maker's_ hand?"

I jump to cut off his rant before he gives me yet another speech on how all Templars must die and how the Chantry should be wiped from the world for spewing propaganda against mages. I've learned that Carrow doesn't care much for religion because he doesn't trust some "nonexistent, mage hating deity" with his fate. So if I don't stop him now, we'll be here for ages.

"What should we do?"

He grins evilly, "I will serve as a distraction. Wait a while until more guards come pouring out onto the grounds before you enter the tower. Find me five mages in good health; you should be able to feel a slight tickle of energy from them. It's a lot like picking out a good cow to take to slaughter, only you needn't check their eyes or feces." he chuckles to himself before standing, "Just a slight tickle, dear man. If you feel little shocks, then they're too volatile. _But_ if you feel nothing at all then they will be utterly useless. Once you find them, teleport outside and I will meet you. Understand?"

I nod gravely.

This _is _like taking cows to slaughter. These people will think I'm here to free them but I'm just the devil in disguise. Suddenly, Carrow whistles and launches a large fireball at the men. They barely have enough time to dodge as the projectile explodes upon impact with the door, leaving a large scorch mark on the dark wood. The air fills with harsh shouts and screams as the men call out for backup. I watch Carrow dance away and around the back of the massive tower whilst cackling as a small mob follows.

Here's my chance.

Low to the ground, I race up to the double doors; taking the stone steps two at a time before sliding through the open doorway. I keep to the shadows and avoid any well-lit corridors and passing guards. They all seem on edge; postures erect and eyes shifty. The place has the feel of a prison with its stone walls and stone floors. Everything about this tower is cold and impersonal from its tame paintings of landscapes that these people can never hope to see in real life to its boring tapestries depicting bland castles that seem to be made in bulk since they're on every floor.

A few doors are wide open and the rooms are completely deserted. I come across a large wooden door and slip inside. Row after row of beds fill the room with most of them being empty. They're all uniform and stiff looking. I freeze, though, when one of the mages stirs and rises into a sitting position. My breath catches in my throat as the person gets out of bed and drags themselves to the washroom. I'm perfectly still as that same person returns to bed a while later; adjusting under their blankets with a contented sigh.

I swallow hard.

"Hello?"

The person jerks and jolts out of bed, scrambling in a tangle of blankets to free their shaking limbs. I can barely make out the figure of a young boy in the dimming light of a candle stub sitting atop a simple desk.

"Who's there?" he whispers.

"I'm Steven. Who are you?"

"R-Richard. Why are you dressed like that? Is this a dream? A-Are you a demon?" his voice becomes shrill at the end of his question and causes a few more people to stir awake.

With a frown, I look down at my short-sleeved tunic and pants. I'm not in Templar armor nor am I in robes like all of the curious, groggy mages that blink at me. Great, these people are already on edge. How am I supposed to get them to come with me willingly? I can only hope that the desire to escape makes them desperate enough to overlook just how suspicious this situation is.

I shake my head, "I'm not a demon. I'm here to help."

"Help?" another older boy asks.

"Yes. A friend of mine is distracting the Templars while I get you boys out of here."

Carrow didn't say anything about gender and I hope he doesn't throw a fit when I return with nothing but boys. Little kids who will never get the chance to grow up and live their lives. Little boys who think that they're being given the opportunity of a lifetime.

"You're getting us out?" the same older boy asks skeptically.

I nod.

"Oh! I can't wait to see mama!" a little boy cries and a few others murmur excitedly in agreement.

Only five. He said five and they have to "tickle" with energy. Nothing more, nothing less and if I fail… He'll what? Kill me? Fine. But if I'm gone, if he's unhappy, then that means he'll go badgering Mina and he'll hurt her and use her. He'll make _her_ do this and she's already a fragile thing despite all her ridiculous bravado. She can't stomach situations like this. She _cried_ when she killed a _highwayman_.

I inhale deeply.

"I can only take five of you."

They're silent for a moment before the younger boys start crying and the older boys begin to argue. The boy, Richard, stumbles up to me with his cheeks glistening with tears. Wide brown eyes blink up through the darkness at me as he grabs the hem of my tunic.

"Please, take me with you!"

I grasp his bare hand in mine and brace myself. I feel nothing. Though I know it will break his heart right now, he doesn't know how lucky he really is. I shake my head and he crumples to the floor, shaking with sobs. All of this noise is sure to draw attention, so I quickly go to every child and touch hands, arms, faces. Only three are usable and they're the oldest. Two of them are volatile and shocked me like static electricity when I got within mere inches of them; they're young, not even twelve. I swear and usher the two together with the other three. Footsteps pound down the corridor outside.

"_Please!_"

Ignoring them, I order the five boys to hold hands and just as I grab one of them the door is busted open and we're whisked away to the grounds with the Templar's panicked shout in our ears. The boys gasp in shock and wonder as I look around anxiously for any sign of Carrow. All around us is burnt grass with nothing but eerily calm water beyond that. A cold hand grips the back of my neck and I refrain from jumping.

"You certainly took your time, didn't you? I had to _slay_ a Templar!" the mage hisses though he doesn't sound remorseful, "Now, let us go!"

By the time we appear in the manor, I feel as though my brain is fried and my head is about to crack open. Carrow ushers the confused boys into a cell as I stumble up the steps. Warmth trails down my cheeks and I think I must be crying, but when I reach a hand up to wipe my face my hand comes back with a red smear. My nose burns and tickles and I find that it's bleeding too; as are my ears. I guess I just undid all of my recovering.

"Oh, dear." a voice sighs from behind me, "It appears you've overextended yourself yet again. Fret not, I'll get you all sorted out. Though, I must tell you that I cannot keep doing this for you. In time, you must learn to maintain yourself."

A cold sheet falls over me and I feel like new. He really does hold my life in his hands, doesn't he? I wipe away the blood as best as I can while watching the blonde mage prepare a basin of water for me to wash myself off. He has a thing about cleanliness, I've noticed. Like Mina, he always has to be clean and he's always very irritable when he gets dirty… Well, he doesn't get angry when he's covered in the blood of innocents for the "greater good".

"When are we doing the ritual?" I ask, splashing the cool water on my face.

I take my time rubbing the blood from my eyes as I squeeze them shut. The water is rust colored by the time I get to my ears and Carrow makes a little noise of displeasure before handing me a clean rag. Taking it from him, I lean against the table and wipe my face off. He stares and I nod my head towards him, silently encouraging him to answer my question.

"Let's see…" he hums as he brushes some nonexistent lint from his cloak, "I haven't felt Mina use her ability in quite some time, so it would be safe for us to do the ritual whenever it pleases us. The sooner the better, I say. We shall do it tonight!"

Everything goes by in a blur as I emotionally distance myself from the situation. The dismembering ceremony is swift and as brutal as the last, though I think Carrow is merciful this time around to the little mages since not one of them breaks out of his spell until he slices his palm open and uncorks Mina's shimmering essence. Then the screams start and I hear a deafening roar that sets my teeth on edge. That couldn't possibly be one of the children, could it?

I don't get to see what happens as an explosion of light fills the dungeon and prickles my skin with foreign energy. The white light fades away to reveal a tall youth with a stocky build curled up in the middle of the floor. My heart races at this development. This is how it started for me and Mina. I can only wonder if the boy came from the same place we came from.

I'm anxious to ask this, but then I notice something odd about the newcomer. His skin is an ashy gray and inky black hair curls along his pale, sweaty brow. The boy is still. His chest doesn't rise or fall and his eyelids don't flutter to signal that he's asleep. I swallow hard as realization dawns on me.

"Now, this is strange." the mage murmurs as he strokes his chin, circling the boy.

"What's wrong with him?" I ask, catching the bastard's blue eyes.

"Isn't it obvious? He's dead!"

Last time nothing happened and this time we summon a _dead_ person. But wasn't Mina dead when she was brought over? Well, she wasn't really dead when she arrived if I understood Carrow's explanation of it. She was dead when she was summoned but was brought back to life by the mage's magic before crossing realms. I wonder how many people Carrow can share his soul with. I wonder if he'll do it again.

My lips twitch and I force myself to glare at the corpse, "Can't you do anything for him?"

"Of course I can! I researched all possible outcomes for the ritual and I know _just _what to do."

I look over at Carrow to find him carefully dragging the blade along his other uncut palm, lips moving quickly as he chants something unintelligible. He kneels next to the boy and smears his blood over the boy's face; down his cheeks, over his eyes and along his mouth before leaving a large splotch on his chest with what is left of Mina's essence. At first I think that this will do nothing; but then color seems to flood through the boy. His skin flushes with a peachy tone spotted with brown freckles, his hair lightens to a woodsy brown and then he stirs and gasps for air.

"Welcome." Carrow smiles, eyes raking over the heaving boy critically, "It is so _wonderful_ for you to join us, my boy."

The boy opens his eyes and I'm struck dumb. They're such a dark shade of brown that ripples with strong emotions of confusion and trepidation. Around the outer rim of the iris, the brown appears to be slightly red like mahogany but darkens to a rich chocolate color towards the pupil until it looks almost black. I've seen this color before and it makes me feel sick when I realize exactly where I've seen such eyes. Those eyes lock with mine and the confusion in their depths dulls to nothing before flaring with shock and intense loathing.

"What is your name, child?" Carrow asks with a knowing smile.

Those dark eyes dart over towards the mage and narrow, "Who are _you_? It's only polite to give your name before asking someone for theirs."

The slight southern twang in his voice isn't as strong as hers nor is it as pleasant sounding. He seems to be trying to smother the accent like it embarrasses him while she embraces it and sometimes exaggerated it to suit her needs. But the accent is still there in his voice. It's still there and it makes my stomach clench.

"Lord Dermot Carrow IV."

The boy nods slowly, "I'm Michael Adler."

My heartbeat slows down and I begin to breathe again. Michael _Adler_. Not Michael _Solis_. But the resemblance between the two is uncanny from the untamable hair to the large dark eyes and cherubic features. Carrow tugs off his traveling cloak and drapes it over Michael who quickly pulls it on and keeps it closed with a trembling fist. His eyes haven't left me, I notice. They seem to burn me as he stands to his full height to tower over the mage.

Carrow gestures towards me, "This is-"

"I know who _he_ is." Michael spits as he takes a threatening step forward, "I have a question for you, scumbag. What did you do to my sister? Is _this _where you took her?"

Wide eyed, I look over at the deranged mage. A large smile pulls at his cracked lips as his pale blue eyes glimmer. He gestures between me and the boy. _Michael Adler_. Mina's little brother. It never crossed my mind that they could have different surnames.

"I'm sure you two must have quite a lot to talk about. I'll be upstairs in the study if you need me."

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**I hope you liked this. This chapter is where the timeline for **_**His Window **_**finally ****intersects with the timeline for **_**The Bleeding Door.**_** Mina and Kiriyama were together for a period of about six months before he disappeared for a year and two months. The two were transported in November (our time) if that helps any. Also, the updated picture including Michael Adler will be posted on my profile shortly.**


	6. 05: Evil

**Spell check wanted to keep changing "Carrow" to "carrot". Yes, the evil carrot summoned Mina's little brother with the use of blood magic!**

**Love,**

**She Dictator**

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05: Evil

Despite all of their similarities, they're nothing alike. He's tall and stocky whereas she's short and lithe, he's cold and distant but she's warm and engaging, he's mature and serious while she's childish and immature. He's everything she should be in terms of maturity and strength and he's only sixteen. She'll be twenty-three this year but she has the emotional maturity of a five year old. It baffles me that she's the older sibling that he so admires. Then again, I often find myself admiring things about her as well.

But after this, after lending a hand in destroying the life of someone she loved so much, I don't think Mina will ever forgive me despite her sensitive nature- probably the only thing I ever envied about her. This is one more thing working against me earning her trust; one more huge thing. And as far as ever having Michael's trust, I know that that will never happen. Not even if his life depended on it would this boy trust me. I know this only because he found it necessary to tell me _exactly_ how he knows me.

He described to me in great detail how he received a panicked phone call from Mina's roommate and close friend, Cheyenne Smithson, who said that she decided to check in on Mina at the Laundromat after she was gone for far too long. It was two in the morning when she walked by a bundle of men's clothing at the corner of the street, which she glanced at curiously but didn't investigate further, and five minutes past that when she discovered her roommate's clothes in a large puddle of blood. She called the police and then called Michael.

Cheyenne said quite hysterically over the phone that there had been so much blood. She sobbed that there was no possible way that Mina could have survived. She apologized over and over again for not going along with the girl; she said that there were quarters all over the floor and that she could only guess that someone had tried to mug her best friend. She knew Mina had fought back. She knew deep in her heart that her friend had lost. The investigators at the crime scene grimly confirmed her suspicions upon seeing the large pool before remarking offhandedly that it was a shame that the place had no security cameras.

The suspicious clothing on the street had Mina's blood all over it, though. In the back pocket of the jeans was a wallet containing the I.D. of one Steven Kiriyama; a man with no criminal history and no motive to kill, but he was the only lead. The investigators showed Michael and his mother the photo of the suspect, of me, wondering if they had seen the man before. They hadn't. But the image of the man's face was burned into Michael's brain. That's why he knew who I was the moment he saw me.

And even more bad news to break to Mina. Her beloved grandfather, upon hearing the news that his only granddaughter was assumed dead, suffered a heart attack and passed away in the hospital a few days later. I weakly asked about her grandmother and Michael stated rather stiffly that the woman had died suddenly the night Mina disappeared. From undiagnosed and untreated stomach cancer, he dryly quoted the coroner, just one more shock that factored into her grandfather's heart failure.

It's nice to know that I was inadvertently the cause of Mina's grandfather's death.

It was awkward between us then. He stood, looking like all he wanted to do was choke the life from me, while I watched him anxiously. He was waiting, I knew. Waiting for me to tell him what I did to his older sister, waiting for me to confirm that she was dead and gone. So, I told him that I had killed her with a pocketknife. As I spoke, I watched the fury and grief in his eyes as his jaw worked to keep back threats and the muscles in his arms flexed in an effort to remain by his side. When I finished telling him how I left her lying on the floor, he was silent. Then I told him what happened _after_.

"What?"

"The man you just saw, Carrow, summoned us using magic." I repeat.

Michael sneers, "Right. What is this, some sick game? I hope you know that I'm going to kill you. I promise you that you won't leave this room alive."

At least they share the same temper.

"This isn't a game, Michael. Your sister is alive."

"Then take me to her." is his swift reply.

"Sorry, but I can't do that."

"Can't or won't? I bet my sister ditched you the moment she got the chance. She probably couldn't even stand the sight of your disgusting face." he spits, eyes practically glowing, "Or she's really dead and you're just some raving lunatic who gets his sick kicks from psychological torture."

I sigh, "She's alive and we traveled together in order to escape Carrow. When she-"

"Escape him?" he interrupts, "Then why are you here if you're running from this alleged mage? I'd find it hard to believe that you got caught, since you're so good at fleeing."

It looks like they share the same sharp tongue and knack for knowing just where to stick the blade, as well. My patience doesn't wear thin with him, surprisingly enough. I suppose after dealing with both Mina's and Carrow's mood swings, I can handle pretty much any temper tantrum that can possibly be thrown. Between Carrow's fits of rage and Mina's emotional outbursts, Michael is quite tame.

"I came back to kill him out of my own free will." I state calmly.

He snorts, "Obviously that didn't work. Guess you can't always successfully butcher someone."

"Aren't you going to ask why I want to kill him?"

The boy rolls his eyes, "Oh, _why _do want to kill the pesky mage, Mr. Killer? Is it because you have an insatiable thirst for blood and death? Wasn't murdering my sister enough for you? Or do you have a quota that you have to meet by the end of the month?"

I take it back. Make Mina taller and burlier and these two could be mistaken for the same person. They both know how to get under the skin, how to grate on the nerves and just bug people in general. Its people like them who shake and move others like puppeteers, getting reactions for their own entertainment. This must be a nasty habit that the boy picked up from his sister. But this boy uses more venom and there's no jesting glint in his eyes. Just fury and contempt.

"No." I grind out, "Carrow has control over your sister and myself and wants to use us for his wicked plans to destroy the Circle of Magi here in Ferelden; a place that serves as a holding cell for the mages of this region. There's a few more all around Thedas, this world, but so far his plot only involves the one here. Neither Mina nor I want to partake in this insane crusade of his, so I took it upon myself to come back and end his life. Obviously, like you said, that didn't work out."

He sets his mouth into a thin, grim line. Those dark eyes of his grow even darker as he looks down at his bare feet. He's in deep thought as he wrings the fabric of Carrow's heavy traveling cloak between his hands and sucks in his bottom lip. I almost laugh at the familiar action, having seen Mina do the same several times. But laughter would be an inappropriate response to such a serious situation.

"You said Ferelden, right?" he asks lowly.

I narrow my eyes as he looks away guiltily like he's the one who single-handedly ruined the lives of an entire family. Without all of the glares and the venom, he looks his age. He could almost be mistaken for a sweet, innocent young man if he stopped frowning so much. Now I understand what Mina meant when she told me that he's very serious for his age and behaves like some mature, albeit snarky, adult.

"Yes, I did." I confirm.

"Dammit!"

My eyebrows furrow as he begins to pace back and forth, stepping over the limbs and torsos of the little boys who died to bring him here like he doesn't even notice them. He's strangely calm amongst all this carnage like he's used to it, but then again he could just be putting up a façade like his sister so often does. Michael halts and fixes me with a harsh glare.

"Why exactly can't you take me to my sister? You already said that your plan to kill Carrow failed, so why bother sticking around? Does he have this place guarded?" he crosses his arms with a determined look, "We could work together to escape if that's the case, but I'll only stay with you until I get to her. Where is she, exactly?"

"She's in Kirkwall, up north in the Free Marches."

A smile tugs at his lips as he lets out a breathy laugh, "This is a joke, isn't it?"

I frown, "No. I already told you that it isn't some joke. She's living in Lowtown with an artist named Bartlett Sauveterre. I promise you that I would never leave her alone to fend for herself. She has that man and a… a trustworthy woman to keep her company." I grimace at the thought of the perverted pirate.

He barks out a laugh and rubs a hand over his face, "Leave it to Billy to get me mixed up in the weirdest things. Can we leave now? I need to see her."

"We can." I start cautiously, trying to think of a way to escape from the knowing mage's clutches with the boy unharmed, "But Carrow can be a bit tricky."

I already got the information that I wanted. I saw everything I wanted to see. Now I know how Mina and I came into existence in this strange world, and unfortunately it was her brother who had to pay the ultimate price for my curiosity. But I know that Carrow has me under his thumb and that the moment I leave here, he'll sense it and continue to harass Mina. The only positive thing to come from this is that Carrow has yet to steal Michael's ability to revolt against him and I'll make damn sure that he never does.

Now is the time to leave. I can only hope that Mina can somehow keep the damned mage away. If what Carrow told me about being able to "maintain" myself so he doesn't have to keep reviving me is true, then that must mean that I can hone my ability and grow stronger. This should apply to the girl as well. Hopefully she doesn't continue to deny begin able to compel people and instead listens to me, for once, and practices her skill.

"Oh, Kiriyama!"

I freeze as the hollow voice floats down the staircase. It's almost like the bastard can smell rebellion. Michael's eyes narrow as he looks through the doorway in the direction of the skeletal man that slowly descends the steps. A genuinely troubled look is on the mage's face as he makes his way down the stairs and stops at the bottom of the steps. He smiles politely and bows his head in Michael's direction. The boy raises an eyebrow.

"What is it?" I ask.

"It appears that Mina has had a bit of a reaction to her essence being destroyed. I fear there may have been a witness to the slight... corruption, if you will, to her mortal form." he sighs tiredly and Michael stiffens beside me, "Kirkwall has a notoriously strong Templar influence and I'm afraid that the witness might turn her in on the basis of being an _abomination_. The rules pertaining to abominations or superior beings that the Chantry fears are quite strict and I fear that she may be executed if word were to get out that she can taint the impressionable minds of Kirkwall's _upright_ citizens."

"Corruption? What do you mean by 'corruption'?" Michael asks, looking frightened.

Carrow waves him off, "Oh, her body rejected an immense amount of the sacrificial blood that flows though her veins to maintain her. She will be fine after some time but I highly suggest that you, Kiriyama, pop over there and bring her home once and for all before she's put into any danger."

So what happened to me during the first ritual happened to Mina, but on a larger scale? I can only imagine how much that must have hurt her. But that must also mean that she will be bleeding from her eyes for quite a while, which definitely won't go unnoticed in a city brimming with suspicious people. She'll be questioned for sure and I'm not sure how long she'll be able to withstand an interrogation since she's an open book when drunk. And if they _torture_ her? My stomach twists.

"Alright."

As I reach for Michael, Carrow holds up a hand. Ice tears through my veins as the man shakes his blonde head, silently telling me that I can't take him with me. Ordering me to leave on my own. That empty space in my body, in my chest, hums as the air around the mage's hand ripples with his compulsion magic. Michael seems to sense it as his brow furrows and he shoots the mage a startled look and the empty place ceases to hum. Carrow notices this and raises his eyebrows. Usually nothing fazes the man, so I turn my attention to the boy and find that his eyes are almost jet black and his skin has gone pale and gray. Like when he was dead.

What's going on?

Carrow drops his hand to his side, the magic dissipates, and Michael's skin slowly regains its peach hue. His hair, I notice, had turned inky black and now returns to its normal brown. The boy breathes in deeply like he was holding his breath the whole time and turns his coal black gaze to me. I'm transfixed as the black lightens at a snail's pace until his eyes are back to normal. There's something almost bestial in his gaze that doesn't disappear, though. Goosebumps rise along my skin.

"Actually, Kiriyama, I've changed my mind." the mage hums softly as he watches the boy through narrowed eyes, "I need you to fetch me a few items from town. I'll make a list."

He leaves us faster than he came, royal blue robes swishing against the stone steps as he disappears through the basement door. Michael is still staring at me intently, breathing shallow and body stiff. I'm reminded of those nature videos where the lion is waiting in the tall grass, watching the zebra graze, breathing softly and staying still until the right moment to strike arrives.

I clear my throat, "Let's get you some clothes."

He seems to snap out of his predatorial daze, "Hm? Oh, right." he looks around with a grimace, "Yeah, let's go. It smells in here."

* * *

**Here's my gift to you since its October 1****st**** and it feels **_**fantastic**_** outside!**


	7. 06: Creep

**Pay attention to Carrow's list. These things will pop up later.**

**Love,**

**She Dictator**

* * *

06: Creep

"Five iron rods, more timber, dragon scale gloves and ink? This is an odd list." I murmur as I take the scrap from the mage's boney hand as well as the pouch of coins.

He gives me a bleak smile, "Yes it is, isn't it? Now, hurry along. I want you back quickly."

It's odd how he seems so stressed even after the ritual was a success. The mage has been fidgety ever since talking to Michael and has yet to stop pacing with his nose shoved in that damned book of his. When I came into the study after finding the boy some clothes, the mage had immediately asked if I had given Michael a room yet. When I told him that I hadn't, he nearly exploded in a fit of rage and demanded I give the boy a room in the basement as opposed to one of the many on this floor.

I left to do just that after Carrow made sure I took blankets and pillows for the boy and nothing else. Michael had been sitting in the kitchen, staring at one of the many corpses on the grimy floor. He was strangely calm about everything that was going on. _Everything_ is strange. One would think that Carrow would want the blood relative of Mina close at hand and that Michael would be having some sort of mental breakdown. But no, Carrow wants Michael as far away as possible and Michael seems almost apathetic to the entire situation.

I shove the list into my pocket and shrug, "I don't think the armor salesman has dragon scale gloves."

"Then go and _kill _a dragon and have the blacksmith make it." Carrow snaps. "Or do I have to do that myself, as well?"

Kill a dragon? Somehow, I don't think that's going to be quite as easy as Carrow makes it sound. Though I'm confident in my fighting skills, I don't think I have it in me to slay a dragon all on my own. Nevertheless, I nod my head and start to leave the room; feeling the mage's eyes on my back the entire time until I get to the door. Then the man clears his throat and I look over my shoulder. His brow is furrowed and he's hugging his book to his chest. He looks like a frightened little child on the first day of pre-school.

"Would you check on Michael before you go? Make sure he's adjusting well." he gives me an expectant look before raising an eyebrow, "Well? Go on."

Chin dipping down in a curt nod, I close the door behind myself and head down to the basement. Things have gotten complicated. If anyone else had been summoned, I would have already left and told Mina all about my theories on strengthening our powers. But since its _Michael Adler_, Mina's younger brother, I can't just leave and face the girl knowing I left her loved one all alone with the psychotic mage. The air is cool and humid down in the basement but when I reach Michael, he's taking off the heavy coat I had given him to protect against the cold Ferelden weather.

"Hello Steven." he murmurs as he shucks off his fur-lined boots before sitting on his cot, "What news do you have about getting to my sister? Or have you decided to be this man's lackey for the rest of your unnatural born life since he 'controls' you?"

"I'm just here to check on you." I reply curtly, ignoring the barb, "I have some errands to run for Carrow. But when I get back we should have time to make plans since he'll be occupied with his own affairs."

"_Errands_?" he laughs, "Wow, he certainly has you whipped. What are you getting, his tampons?"

What Mina had said about her brother possibly being a bully is starting to make sense. Mina is a pain when provoked- even if you provoke her unwittingly with how sensitive she can be- but Michael is a pain simply if he doesn't like you. And he seems like the kind of person who can come up with a million reasons to not like someone without even talking to them first. Michael Adler is the type of person that I prefer to avoid.

His muscular frame is propped up against the wall as he stretches his legs out and crosses his arms across his chest. Dark eyes watch me boredly, silently ordering me to get out of his sight before he loses his temper. Thin lips- so unlike his sister's- are pulled into a grimace like the mere sight of me makes him ill. At least if this was Mina, she would_ pretend_ like she gives a damn instead of exhibiting this display of blatant dislike that I'm unaccustomed to.

"Ink and dragon scale gloves, among other things."

He perks up, "_Dragon scale gloves_? Where are you going to get something like that? Surely an item like that isn't common."

Shrugging, I give him a curious look, "I don't know. I'll have to kill a dragon to get the scales first, I suppose. Then I guess I'll go to the local blacksmith and have the gloves made."

"Do you know where you can find a dragon?" I shake my head and he continues, "Try a mountainous region. Where are we, at the moment?"

"Amaranthine. Just off the coast of the Waking Sea, actually."

The glimmer of recognition in his eyes confuses me. I don't know if it's Amaranthine or the Waking Sea that sparks that knowing look in his eye, but it wouldn't make much sense if it was one or the other; none of this should sound familiar to him. Leaning forward, he narrows his eyes up at me and taps his fingers on his knee. I've seen that look before. That look says, "I'm about to ask you for a huge favor but I'm going to make it seem like _I'm_ the one doing the favor". Mina uses it all the time. Reverse psychology and other mind games aren't things that I'm easy prey to. Sometimes, though, it's just easier to play along.

"If you take me with you, I can help you find a dragon."

"And how exactly would _you_ know where to find one?" I ask suspiciously.

One broad shoulder comes up in a half-shrug, "I read a lot of fantasy novels and books about mythological creatures as a kid. Dragons usually dwell in mountains. Are there any mountains near here?"

Thinking back to the world map that I have almost completely memorized from my travels, I say, "The Frostback Mountains is the closest mountain range near here."

He nods like I answered a question he knew the answer to all along, "Good. When can we leave?"

"We?" I snort, "I highly doubt that blonde bastard will just let us both walk right out from under his nose."

"And why wouldn't he? The mage wants dragon scale gloves, we need dragon scales, dragons reside in mountains and the closest mountains are the Frostback Mountains, therefore we need to travel there for him to have his fancy little gloves." he smirks like a conman, "It's only _logical_ that we both go. What? Is he going to go and slay a dragon all on his own? Mages are-" he freezes and frowns before waving me off, "Go and tell him that you and I are both going. I would go with you, but I get the feeling he doesn't like me much. Besides, I need to pack my many belongings." he adds sarcastically.

The urge to ask what he was going to say about mages is tempting, but the excitement of getting the boy out of here keeps me from asking any other questions. Without a word, I leave the boy in his tiny cell of a bedroom just as he starts to put all his heavy winter clothes back on. Carrow can't possibly refute the boy's logic, not that it's infallible, but simply because it's so very obvious that the mage doesn't want Michael anywhere near him. Besides, the knowledge that Michael has of mythical creatures will definitely be helpful in this journey.

I'm in front of the study door before I know it and I mentally prepare myself for whatever tirade the mage will go on when I present to him this new idea. Knocking twice, I enter without having to be told and wait just beyond the threshold. Carrow is hunched over a scroll, his quill darting back and forth as he writes at lightning speed. Bright blue eyes shoot between his writing and the text next to him a few times before he makes a scribble and looks up at me. Appraising eyes rake over me from head to toe before he frowns.

"Finished so soon? I should think not, seeing as how you don't have any of my required items in your possession."

"There's been a change of plans. I want to take Michael with me, seeing as how he knows a thing or two about dragons."

"Absolutely not! I-"

"It's either this, or I leave you alone with Michael for who knows how long while I try to find and kill a dragon all on my own."

His argument seems to get lodged in his throat as his eyes widen marginally. In a flash, those widened eyes narrow into two glistening slits as the mage stands up from his chair and crosses his arms.

"And how, pray tell, do you expect to travel with the boy? Will you teleport and show him your amazing ability? Are you _daft_?"

I frown, "What do you mean?"

Turning his body, he snatches up the parchment he was writing on and taps on it with one of his long, boney fingers. From what I can see of the scroll, there's a large circle drawn on it with a bunch of scribbling all around the circle. A haphazard 'X' crosses out the scribbles on the right side of the circle where a palm was drawn while the top image, the bottom and the left are all circled. The topmost image is of an eye, the bottom is some sort of cloud and the left image is what looks like a giant triangle with a smaller triangle inside it.

"Is this supposed to mean something to me?"

"Yes." the mage snaps, "It should mean _a lot_ to you. I'll let you and the boy travel together, but only if you swear not to use your ability anywhere _near_ him. Now, you may be thinking to yourself that you shall teleport to wherever you are going just to spite me, but that would be very foolish. If you know what is good for you, Kiriyama, and if you want to live to see another day you will _not_ use your ability near that boy. Do you understand?"

"Wh-"

"_Do_ you understand?"

That ashen skin of his looks even paler as he watches me with an unwavering gaze. He doesn't even try to compel me into following his orders. There's something akin to fear in those pale blue eyes and it increases tenfold when something heavy slams down onto my shoulder. Glancing back, I see Michael watching Carrow with an odd look before he looks at me and raises his eyebrows in question. He pats my shoulder once before dropping his hand back down to his side.

"I got changed pretty quickly. So, are we going or what?"

I turn my gaze back onto Carrow, "Yes."

We leave the mage standing there like a statue, that scroll pressed tightly to his chest as he watches us go. The air is chilly and the sun is high in the sky when we start down the road to town. I barely pay attention as Michael barters with the blacksmith for a sword, using the coin Carrow had given me. He picks out all of our traveling supplies with curious ease and I'm surprised to find that he seems to know just what to pack from tents to traps.

I'm tempted to teleport us to the mountains to save us the tiresome journey, but something about the way Carrow looked at Michael keeps me from doing it. We're silent as we travel down the road and I can only assume that Michael is thinking of his sister as I think over the mage's foreboding words. Glancing at the boy from the corner of my eye, I wonder what could possibly be so dangerous about him.

* * *

**Yes, this one isn't as long as the last. Does it seem like **_**Dragon Age**_** exists as a video game in the world Mina, Steven and Michael came from? I'm sure you'll figure that one out easily enough as I sit here grinning like a Cheshire cat.**


	8. 07: Frozen

**In which I give lots of information but no actual answers. Did anyone enjoy the season premiere of **_**The Walking Dead**_**? Gosh, it feels like I've been waiting years for it!**

**Thanks to all my reviewers and new followers! I would also like to give a shout-out to NekoHalfBreed, BlackScyther and Annie Anonymous for grilling me on different aspects of my story! Grilling in a **_**good**_** way, not a bad way.**

**Love,**

**She Dictator**

* * *

07: Frozen

We aren't even in the Frostback Mountains when we come across a baby dragon. I watched it curiously nuzzle its snout through debris from just behind the billowing fabric of what was once a tent and turned to tell Michael that there was a dragon as he buried his nose in a map. When I made the mistake of calling it a "baby dragon", Michael quietly corrected me with a frown and said it was a "drake", not a baby.

Bears and wolves can't hold a candle to a dragon. In these sparse and frozen woods, those creatures are all we've seen with the occasional "Darkspawn" popping up. Michael had warned me against getting close to tainted creatures like those humanoid beings and even pointed out sick bears to keep an eye on. The boy seemed so blasé about everything and all these strange beasts. When I pointed out the dragon, though, he was enraptured.

The creature was a strange thing to behold with bluish gray scales that rippled across a body of lethal muscle. Its long neck was what Michael attacked- seemingly from nowhere- like a vicious animal. Teeth bared, eyes wild, face speckled with ruby fluid; he was a fearsome sight. He didn't even need my help but I still nocked one of the ice arrows he had insisted that I buy, just in case.

After that one fell, more came. And more and more. Their bodies were slightly difficult to spot amongst the flurry of snow, but they quickly remedied that for us when they started spitting little balls of flame. The boy fought like a creature possessed, and I made sure to stay well out of his sword's range lest he "accidentally" decapitate me. Because of his ferocity, the battle was over as quickly as it began.

He lacks finesse but he's surprisingly efficient. Not once did he leave himself open to an attack, like he had eyes all over. It's a bit suspicious and as I sit with a drake's head lolling on my knee and I struggle to skin it, I covertly watch the boy. Snowflakes drift lazily down from the sky only to be swooped up and away by a gust of wind. I blink away a few flurries that attach to my eyelashes.

Michael watches boredly, wiping his blade down and occasionally glancing around the charred remains of the camp we had stumbled upon. He offers no help and I would have refused if he had. Animosity comes off of him in deadly waves and I've kept my distance from him since we first started our journey, so I'm not about to let him near me just for the sake of taking the burden of work from me.

"Here near Orzammar, we're far from Amaranthine." the boy says aloofly as he hits his blade on the toe of his boot, "So, what now?"

I'm a bit startled by the sound of another human voice carrying over the wind since it's been ages since we really spoke conversationally to one another; about a week, actually. But knowing Michael, it would be foolish to jump or swear out of shock and give him an opening to sneer about being underprepared and needing to be on guard at all times. Save me the lectures.

"We have more than enough scales." I state as I look at the six corpses, "After I skin them, we'll head back."

"Are we seriously going back to that guy?"

"Yes."

"For what? A life of servitude? Isolation? Misery?" he fumes, "Screw that! I'm going to find Billy!"

He gets to his feet quickly but doesn't move to sheath his blade. My hands continue their methodical work of piercing tough flesh and running the smooth blade beneath the skin, refusing to acknowledge and draw attention to this menacing gesture. If I look at him, he'll see that as a challenge. The boy is so backward in his social skills that it's a wonder he's even related to sociable Mina Solis.

He's trying to intimidate me but I won't have it. I'll remain levelheaded. I've had enough time to think this through on our week-long journey. I would very much like to reunite the boy with his sister, but I don't know what he's capable of and Carrow clearly does. From what the mage has said, the boy is dangerous. And as much as I want to do right by Mina, I can't have him endangering her.

"If we don't return, he'll begin to torment your sister." I inform him calmly, though I secretly take stock of all of my weapons.

"Who will do _what_?"

Of course I always knew that I would have to be the one to inform him about our abilities. Though I don't know what he can do, I'm certain of my and Mina's powers and Carrow's rather annoying way of getting into the green-haired girl's head. Brown eyes glare at me with intense loathing and suspicion and I don't blame him. I would be suspicious as well.

"Carrow." I clarify, "As a mage, he has mastered the power of compulsion. He is able to bend people's minds to his will and even infiltrate their minds during sleep. That particular ability is one that he enjoys using on your sister. Carrow is only able to do this because _Mina_ uses compulsion magic as well which strengthens their bond."

A silvery glint makes me glance up and I see the boy cross his arms. Hand still wrapped firmly around the hilt, I know that he won't relinquish the blade. He's still considering fighting his way away from me. Hopefully he isn't as good as his sister when it comes to sniffing out lies, because that obviously wasn't the whole truth as to why Carrow can wriggle his way into Mina's head. And I'm sure if this boy even _thinks_ that I'm lying, he'll start swinging.

"Billy isn't a mage." he says slowly.

I nod, "Yes, she isn't."

"So how can she use magic? Only mages use magic."

"It's because of the ritual. We were all gifted with extraordinary abilities."

"Oh yeah?" he frowns, "Then what can _you_ do? So far, I haven't felt anything different about _myself_."

"I can teleport."

His eyes narrow, "Teleportation, huh? Then show me." he sneers when I raise an eyebrow, "Pardon me for not believing that we could've saved a lot of time on this damn trip and just teleported to my sister's side."

The mage's warning blares in my head like an alarm. Don't use my ability near or around the boy. If I know what's good for me, if I want to be able to live to see another day, then I _won't_ show him my power. But that malicious glint in his eyes almost makes me want to teleport, but not for the sake of showing off what I can do. I want to teleport to escape him.

Shaking my head I say, "I can't do that."

"Why?"

"Because it's tiring." I partly lie.

"Or because you're a liar." he snorts, "If you could teleport, then why make us walk all this way on that nut's little errand? Why not go to Kirkwall and find my sister? Carrow already said that she's in danger because her mortal whatever is messed up!"

He's getting worked up. Cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, nostrils flaring; he's too far gone for me to be able to reel him back in. Wrapping the dragon skin and placing it in my bag, I stand cautiously and stare the boy down. The muscles in his jaw twitch as he grinds his teeth. This is much more dangerous than Mina's weepy moments. This is on a whole different level of rage than Carrow's outbursts.

"Michael."

"_You_ go back there! _You _go and stick your damn head in the sand and pretend that everything will work itself out!" he bellows, "_I'm_ finding Billy! _I'm _going to make sure that she's safe!"

Instead of fighting me, he turns on his heel and stalks away. Snow swirls around his cloaked figure as he storms through the sparse trees and makes his way back to the trail. Swearing, I strap on my bag and hurry after him. There are bears and abnormally large spiders all around these parts, and although he's a fierce fighter I don't want to be the one who just watched him walk into harm's way.

"Michael!"

He doesn't stop, doesn't even falter in his determined stride. My hand hovers at his shoulder but I don't touch him. Something tells me that touching him right now would be a bad idea. But when he loses his footing on the slick slush, I have no choice but to either grab him or let him tumble down the steep incline and possibly impale himself with his own sword.

It's like being shocked; sharp, quick and insanely painful all at the same time. Joints crack and pop, locking of their own accord. Muscles stiffen like ice and blood freezes to slush. Electricity seems to crackle along my skin. When he's steadied himself, he glances at me over his shoulder with dark eyes and shrugs me off before continuing like nothing. I'm paralyzed. I can't move. I can't call out to him or anything. I can only watch as he disappears behind that growing curtain of snow and even when he's well out of my sight, I can't do anything.

Heart racing, I try to come up with some solution. If I'm immobile for too long, I'll surely freeze or become a meal for some hungry, wild animal. And this region isn't in short supply of dangerous creatures as I learned from that seemingly endless stream of dragons. Unable to even blink or twitch the most insignificant of muscles, I realize what I must do.

Hoping that Michael is far enough away, I focus on the continuous thrumming in my blood and think of Carrow. Before I know it, the blonde man is no longer just an image in my head but a real, fleshy mortal in front of my eyes. Bitter cold air is replaced by stifling heat from a roaring fireplace and the blonde man looks up in alarm. He pulls himself from his throne of books and swiftly approaches me.

"Didn't I tell you not to tele-!" he stops to look around curiously, "Where is Michael?"

Blue eyes search the room frantically for the strange boy. Despite quickly being warmed up, I'm still just as immobile as I was in the snow. It's clear to me that the cold wasn't what sparked this unusual onslaught of paralysis. It was Michael. _This_ is what the boy can do. But is this the only thing that makes him dangerous?

When I don't answer, the mage frowns gravely, "What has happened to you? Are you…" his eyes narrow as he seems to come up with some conclusion from nowhere, "I see…"

Boney hands tug away my bag and cloak and a chair is placed behind me before I'm shoved down onto it. Then the mage begins to pace, occasionally throwing me an accusing glare before returning to his city of books and submerging himself in their musty depths. After a long time, I begin to think that he's forgotten about me until he scratches something onto a scrap and shoves it into his robes. He makes to walk by me but stops hesitantly.

"I will be back shortly." he announces, "Please stay put."

I don't know if he's being facetious or not as the door behind me opens and closes. What I do know is that I'm alone and sinking into the dusty cushions of an armchair in a demented mage's study while Michael Adler, the Paralyzer, treks through the dangerous terrain outside of Orzammar on the hunt for his sister whom he may or may not hurt. I guess taking him with me to fight dragons wasn't such a good idea after all.

* * *

**I wanted to say Orgrimmar instead of Orzammar through this entire chapter.**


	9. 08: Oversight

**In this chapter, I give you an information overload and more questions to ask.**

**Shout-out to Kyeltsar, Cathy, Xaiael(Guest), balrogslayer230, ShyWriter413, BlackScyther, CrazySteve, SuiteHeart52, KrystylSky, xX-LittleBlackSparrow-Xx, Annie Anonymous, ziry, MorbidxxPassion, partygirl654, m t p, ZeBigDeadKitty, Hunter113, Outlaw Vaan, NekoHalfBreed, Guest(?), Sugar Cough, Pint-sized She-Bear, Sara-hold-the-h, Lady Blackwolf and kiwibliss!**

**Much Love,**

**She Dictator**

* * *

08: Oversight

Days drag on. The sun filters in through the small windows before sinking away and out of sight, taking the warmth along with it. This happens several times, and in that time Carrow busies himself with finishing his errands himself and fashioning snares out of metal and wire. Iron rods sit in the fire, glowing red with heat, books litter the floor, opened at random, marked up pages. A thick stink fills the air, caused by the bird corpses that hang from the ceiling with their small throats sliced open. Little dishes sit below each and every one of them, catching crimson droplets and the occasional feather.

I'm simply a spectator in my own life.

After a long while, the dishes of blood are collected and dumped into a communal pot. Bitter smelling plants are finely sliced and diced, minced and some even pureed before being mixed with the blood and set above the roaring fire. It sits for days. This is a poultice, Carrow had said, the only thing known to effectively combat the paralyzing effects of Michael's unusual power. After he told me this, he resumed his newfound hobby of ignoring me and treating me like I'm just another piece of furniture to be walked by and overlooked. Once, he almost sat on me.

The room smells horrible today, like pungent garlic and clotted blood in the damp heat. I've been immobile so long that it's driving me insane. I can't speak, can't blink and the only thing that brings me any relief is knowing that Carrow has been working day and night on the poultice that he swears will snap my body out of its state of shock. The mage hasn't spoken about it much, though, and went out earlier in the day to drop off the dragon scales so they could be fashioned into a pair of gloves. He's anxious about something and I can only guess that that something, or better yet _someone_, is Michael. I myself am worried about the boy.

A low creak alerts me that Carrow has returned from his errands and I watch as he quickly makes his way to the pot that boils over with red-hot animal blood and wilted plants. Soft words trickle from his lips as he stirs the concoction a few times before spooning some out with a ladle and into a shallow wooden bowl. Boney fingers wave over the dark liquid and steam erupts from it with a hiss as the mage chills his creation into a thick slush with his magic. If it could, my throat would tighten at the odor that seems to smell even more like rot and decay. Pale blue eyes lock onto me.

"This might burn a tad, dear friend, but it will only work if the poultice is freezing. It is the only way to shock any feeling back into your body." two fingers dip into the slush and he grimaces, "My, that_ is_ cold! If it were hot, though, it would only relax your body for a few moments. Cold is a more permanent solution. We will have to apply this for a few days, well, _you_ will. You _are_ a grown man, so I am sure you can apply a simple poultice to your own body once you are up and moving again."

He extends his fingers to drag the thick mixture down the length of my throat before spreading it up and along my face. I only start to feel anything when he begins to rub it into my arms and chest. Icy pinpricks tingle along every place that he touched, leaving a trail of freezing fire for the briefest moment before relaxing warmth spreads through my nerves. Exhaustion makes my eyelids droop and my head loll back onto the overstuffed cushion of the armchair and I realize just how tense every single muscle in my body was. I don't think I'll touch Michael again even if it _does_ mean saving him from a nasty fall if this is what he'll do to me.

Carrow clears his throat, "I take it you can speak?"

"Ye-Yes." I whisper, voice faint and scratchy.

Eyes like ice chips glance up from his place at my feet, "Did you slay him?"

My brow crinkles and a bit of the now flaky poultice floats down to attach to my eyelashes and I blink it away, "What?"

"That's the only explanation I could come up with as to why you returned in a state of paralysis."

"Are you… talking about Michael?"

"Who else would I be talking about?" he snaps before getting to his feet and ladling out more of the smelly stuff, "Obviously you had to have killed him or you yourself would be dead. He is not exactly the sort to let his prey escape."

He's talking about the boy as if he's an animal. Certainly he behaved like one when he fought and when he was angered but I can't find it in myself to think of him as some feral creature because of his relation to Mina. And the fact that he's her brother just makes things so much worse. My stomach wouldn't be in so many knots if it was some nobody that I lost in the snowy region outside of Orzammar with its bears and wolves and _dragons_. It seems as though all of my efforts to do right by the girl are cursed to backfire and I wouldn't be surprised if this situation continues to deteriorate.

"Didn't… kill him."

"I find that very hard to believe. How did you escape?" the mage takes a step back as my body floods with sensation and he rubs his hands clean on his robe, "I know that you used your teleportation and that would have only riled the boy up even more. You _must_ have killed him."

"Ran." I grunt as I push myself into a more comfortable position, "He ran away… from me."

"Did you anger him? It would take very little to enrage an Alter, you know." he moves to his table and pulls out a book before returning to me, "As a Specter, I am afraid that you have no ability to counteract what the boy can do. Your skills are more _evasive_ while his are rather direct and devastating." a page is shoved under my nose and I recognize the shoddy drawing of a circle with strange writing around it, "I meant to tell you this sooner, but I did not expect the boy to lose his temper so easily. My sincerest hope was that you would have been able to bond with him passively and therefore give me indirect control of him. Unfortunately that plan was not fruitful and it is nearly impossible for dear Mina to create a link with him, being an Eye and all."

All of these terms go over my head. I know what all of these words like "alter" and "specter" and "eye" mean, but he's using them out of context, like they're a state of being and not simply common nouns or verbs. And there he goes again with the bonding thing, but this time implying that _I _could bond with Michael. Or _would. _Never did I ever have any desire to drive a blade into the boy's chest and rip apart his soul with the intention of controlling him. With shaky hands, I take the drawing that the mage keeps impatiently waving in front of my face and examine it like I have the smallest chance of understanding what it all means.

"Alter?" I ask after staring at the picture for a moment.

He sighs, "Yes, he is an Alter based on the location of his body on the circle. At first I mistook him for a Palm, but I suppose one of the boys embraced a demon before the ritual was complete and the resulting influx of magic skewed his surfacing. Oh, I _so_ wanted a Palm!"

"Palm?"

"Read the text!"

I give him a flat look, "I can't."

The picture is promptly swiped from my hands and I'm actually pleased to feel the sharp sting of a cut left behind by the thin, crispy sheet. Any feeling is welcome after days of being an unfeeling statue. A coppery tang fills my nostrils, mixing in with the odor of stale animal blood that already permeates the room. My senses are heightened, it seems, and Carrow squints his eyes at me for a moment before nodding to himself and tapping the drawing with a pale, calloused finger. He's pointing directly at the drawing of a misshapen cloud.

"You, my friend, are what the old Magisters of the Tevinter Imperium called a Specter. You are one of the Imperium's best kept secrets." he winks but I remain nonplussed, "During my travels in my youth, I often stumbled upon merchants selling old books. But I _found_ one of many long lost texts, deep in an ancient ruin that was simply crawling with pesky spiders and reanimated corpses. It was almost too much for me to handle, you see, but I knew that there had to be something of great importance if all of the intricate traps were anything to go by." a large book, his favorite book, is placed on my lap and I revel in the feeling of pressure on my knees, "This is what I found. It took me quite a lot of time to translate it and even longer to comprehend what exactly was being said. I should have fully translated it before I summoned you and Mina, but I was very impatient and quite desperate. I could not have imagined what wonders awaited me in those bindings of human flesh."

I almost shove the book off of my lap when I hear this. No wonder the thing looks so odd with its flaky cover, strange coloring and faint weird odor. To think that this used to be a part of someone, it makes my stomach gurgle and I'm not even a very squeamish person. Cold eyes watch me closely as I squirm to keep from flipping the book away and onto the mage who adores the disgusting text so much. But even just the thought of touching it makes my skin crawl.

"And what did the text say?" I ask after clearing my sore throat.

"Oh, it said many things." he replies softly, almost sadly, "It first went on to say that the book itself was made from the skin of a foreign creature; summoned by the use of powerful blood magic. A demon, it said. So of course I was at first mistaken in believing that you and dear Mina were demons, which leads me to believe that the creatures summoned so long ago were in fact human as well." he then points to the sketch of a palm, "The mages thought they were summoning an Old God to beg a favor from, but the creature was said to appear to be mortal- a female human- that possessed a unique ability to transform objects. She had no knowledge of our realm or the realm of the Old Gods and was then used for the purpose of protecting the archon. But her handler, the archon's apprentice, was brutally murdered by her when he upset her by committing some obscure form of abuse. It was not explicitly stated what happened, but a massacre took place right after. She was the very first Summoned and she was a Palm; therefore it took quite a bit of group effort to slay her."

I wait for him to continue as I stare at the image of a palm. We aren't the firsts, then? There have been people before us who were torn from their worlds because some mages were hungry for power? Something prods at my brain and I can't help but question the random disappearances of people all around the world and wonder if they were simply murdered by wild animals like the news said or were the victims of deranged killers. What if they were transported here where they were then abused by mages for their newly acquired abilities?

"What happened then?"

The mage drags his eyes up from the picture to pierce into me, "This deterred others from ever summoning another creature from that realm since they feared they were violent and uncontrollable. They banned the use blood magic for such purposes and all of those involved in the ritual swore it to secrecy. But a more adventurous man by the name of Aurelius decided to further research the methods involved in this accidental summoning." a fingernail is slowly dragged along the spine of the book, "He wrote this text. He killed countless elves to improve his research and wrote down his findings, and then he practiced on his fellow mages to see what results he'd garner. It was mostly trial and error on his part and largely inconsistent. The most success he received was when the essence of a previously summoned creature was used during a ritual. I only recently discovered that it is because the creature being summoned is of direct blood relation to a Summoned."

"Mina and Michael." I interrupt.

"Yes, that is correct." he nods, "And I can only assume that the ritual with your essence did not work because you have no living relatives. Correct?"

I nod stiffly, "Correct."

"Such a waste." he sighs, "But, moving on… Aurelius also created the process of Bonding. He realized that the only way to get such creatures to obey a simple mage would be to gain possession of their essence; the very thing that allows them to remain tethered to their original realm. Add in a bit of compulsion magic and any problems of rebellion are solved. That is, of course, unless you are dealing with an Alter." Carrow tiredly moves away to sit in his chair, "Alters have a very odd reaction to magic unlike their companions. Palms, Specters and Eyes thrive off of magic and are drawn to it like moths to a flame while Alters are repulsed by magic and feel the insatiable desire to seek out the source and eliminate it. They are very violent and quite savage. They cannot be bonded by use of magic and can only be controlled by the strong Palm or passively influenced by the elusive Specter. Eyes, on the other hand, cannot control an Alter despite their ability to manipulate others. This is because their ability relies solely on magic and does not give them any physical advantage that could save them from the grasp of an Alter."

"Save?" I ask, alarmed, "Why would they need to be saved? The Alter's power is just paralysis, right?"

"Wrong." the blonde mage wags his finger like a disappointed teacher, "Paralysis is the first stage of defense; it is used to ensure that the prey won't use any physical magic to escape or do any harm. You use more mental means and can therefore escape by teleportation. Palms use physical magic, yes, but it's strong enough to keep a raging Alter at bay. Eyes, however, rely completely on the mental aspect of magic and have no physical defense which would then lead to the second stage for an Alter: attack."

Despite the soreness and stiffness of my muscles, I get to my feet and send the book crashing to the floor. Though they're related and Michael seems to adore his sister, I'm not certain of his mental stability. The way his eyes go black and how his skin goes gray, and that animalistic look he would occasionally get in his eye… I can't help but fear for Mina's safety. And she would embrace her brother without question if she saw him, throwing caution to the wind in the reckless way that only she knows how.

"Mina and I give off traces of magic when we use our powers?"

The mage glares up at me from where he'd scrambled to scoop up the book, "Of course! You are completely magical though you are limited to a single ability and cannot _learn_ magic. It is my magic that allows you to have powers but my magic does not influence what you can or cannot do. For example, I cannot teleport whereas you can but Mina uses compulsion magic which _I can_ use. Whenever you use your ability, it gives off just as much magic as it would if a mage used it." he brushes imaginary dust off of the book as he stands, "And the fact that we are bonded just increases the amount of magic you release since I myself replenish your life force and allow you to stay in this realm. Unfortunately, the same cannot be done for Michael unless you manage to bond with him."

This is an information overload that almost sends me collapsing back onto the chair. Michael is a creature that hates magic and Mina and I give off magic, therefore he's bound to attack us at some point. He's going to find Mina because he loves her but might end up hurting her since she uses magic to compel people. Because Michael has an aversion to magic, Carrow can't bond with him and so Michael will end up dying because he doesn't belong in this realm. This situation is completely screwed no matter how you look at it.

"I need to find Mina."

"No, what you _need _to do is find Michael. He is fierce enough to be able to handle himself, but we require his assistance to fell the Circle. His ability would serve us well but he will do us no good if he gets himself killed with his recklessness."

"But he's going after Mina!" I cough as my voice gives out and wince.

Flames burn in the mage's eyes and his knuckles whiten as he grips the book tightly, "You fool! He mustn't see her! The girl is so terrible at controlling her ability that she will most certainly use it around him and find herself on the wrong end of a draining!"

"Draining?"

"I told you not to teleport around him, so you would not know what he is capable of." he sighs as he begins to pace, "He is an Alter, possessing one of the most powerful abilities of four possible powers. His kind was used against rival mages, mostly to keep others away from Aurelius and his research. I mentioned that the Alters despise magic and use their ability to paralyze their foes. After paralysis, however, comes the Draining. They suck the life and magic out of living things and leave their victims as nothing but a husk; somewhat similar to the progenies created by Eyes. Unlike their paralysis, this draining is irreversible."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" I growl.

"Because I knew you would not dare use your power around him and I expected that you would bond with him. I could not have imagined that you would allow him to simply get away from you and let him run to Mina." the blonde bastard spits, "You should have promptly slain him the moment you felt the slightest hint of insurgence! Mina's power is much easier to contain which makes her far more useful to us than him!"

"I would've known better if you had told me earlier!" I shout hoarsely, muscles twitching as I try to fight the urge to punch the mage, "Now we don't know where he is! It's been days, he could be anywhere!"

Carrow is obviously already tired of our shouting match and he shows this by sending me crashing into my chair, making it topple over with me on it. Muscles screaming out in pain, I grind my teeth and slowly get to my feet. He's pacing once more and I gasp for breath as I watch him. Things would be so much better if I could find Michael and kill him. Mina would never have to know that he was here. She wouldn't have to feel the pain of knowing her brother's life was destroyed and that he was transformed into something far more freakish and dangerous than us.

The air is thick with tension and the musk of blood and rot nearly makes me gag. Nerves still spasming; I push myself into a standing position and narrow my eyes. All of his pacing won't do us any good right now. He could make a rut in the floor with his pacing back and forth but that wouldn't get us any closer to finding Michael or warning Mina. Truthfully, I'd prefer to find Michael and end his life. No love will be lost between us, and his existence would be a lie that I would be able to live with as long as the girl whose life I ruined isn't harmed any more.

It's a terrible truth that I must embrace. There's no denying that I have the nerve and the conscience to kill Mina's loved one without telling her a single thing. He will be gone and she will be safe and none the wiser. Even though this all makes sense to me and I can see the same idea brewing in Carrow's hollow eyes, I find it rather difficult to rationalize this with Mina's face floating through my mind. I've already betrayed her once by aiding in bringing Michael here in the first place…

"Find Michael." Carrow commands, snapping me out of my thoughts, "Your senses are already heightened from your exposure to his power. The more you experience his ability, the stronger your bond will grow and the more your own power will be refined. At the moment, the bond is nearly nonexistent." his mouth hardens into a thin line as he continues in a softer voice, "You are a dear friend and you are valuable to my cause. I will… leave _you_ with the decision to either strengthen the bond and risk death or kill the boy and bring Mina home."

Right. Because putting it that way makes things _so_ much easier.


	10. 09: Reptilia

**Surprise! Yes, this is a speedy update but only because I don't want to leave you hanging after the last chapter. I'd like to thank all of my readers and followers for continuing to support me and this story. Oh, and Happy November!**

**Shout-out to kenegi, xX-LittleBlackSparrow-Xx, kiwibliss, Pint-sized She-Bear, Annie Anonymous, Sugar Cough, ziry, MorbidxxPassion, Sara-hold-the-h, WhenTwoTearsFall and Xaiael!**

**Hugs,**

**She Dictator**

* * *

09: Reptilia

I don't know what I said wrong. She seemed to be handling my visit quite well; she was rather stoic, a far cry from the jumpy girl I left behind all those months ago. Her reaction at seeing me was what I had anticipated for the most part with her swearing and harsh words, but when I brought up the door being open upstairs she just completely lost it. Like a puppet with its strings cut, she collapsed to the floor in a heap and started sobbing uncontrollably. That tough façade of hers melted away so quickly I almost mistook her for being bipolar.

When I touched her, her wails only increased in volume so I was forced to back away. It pains me to watch her lying there on the floor, frail body shaking with sobs as she holds herself and tries to smother her own hurt. I haven't seen her so hysterical since the day that I… I haven't seen her break down like this since the day that I told her my reasoning for killing her in that Laundromat so long ago. It didn't matter that it was an accident, that I had been so caught off guard by the pixie-like girl putting up such a fight. I still _did it_.

I thought she would have toughened up since then. No, that's too cruel of me. Too cynical, for me to expect her to become "accustomed" to sadness and despair like that's such a healthy or natural thing to do. But I'll have to get used to her crying eventually, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me. Especially because what I came here to tell her won't be something she wants to hear. Then again, this sort of explosive reaction wasn't what I was expecting. I assumed I would get hit and there would be a lot of yelling on her end, I didn't think she would be so weepy.

Now I know that I have to wait for the right moment to tell her everything. She isn't strong enough mentally to handle so much at once and surely she'll come unhinged when I tell her that her brother is here and he'll likely kill her if he gets too close. It won't matter that I left to kill Carrow for us, that I stayed because I was curious about our origins. What she'll focus on is that I stayed and participated in the destruction of her brother's life. Mina will only see that I left her, hurt her and hurt Michael.

I wonder if I can convince Carrow to summon a Palm. Just for the sake of keeping the boy alive and in check, at least. But he already said that summoning people is difficult and often times it doesn't work. He lucked out when summoning us three. Too bad that that _luck_ was purely one-sided, unless you count our acquired abilities as an equal exchange for our previous lives. My only option, the only way I can ever get back into Mina's good graces, would be to bond with the boy. I have no issue with that unless the boy tries to attack me and forces me to take drastic measures.

"Oh, I'm fine. Thanks for asking." a hollow, cracked voice spits from the floor.

Looking down, I see Mina struggle to stand. I don't approach, simply because of the vicious glare she shoots my way when I take a step forward. I'll never understand this overly emotional child trapped in a young woman's body. Her pale face is splotched with red and her mouth is swollen from her trying to hold in her sobs by biting her lips. Embarrassed, she looks at the wall behind me instead of directly at me as she rubs her nose with the back of her sleeve. That same sleeve is used to furiously wipe away tear streaks, leaving her cheeks redder than ever.

"Are you alright?" I ask tensely.

"Too late for that, genius. Gosh, you'd never make it as a good husband."

My breath catches in my throat and I cough, "What are you implying?"

Her lips harden into a severe line, "I'm implying that you suck. Actually, I'm not implying it. More like stating it as a rather obvious fact."

I resist the urge to stoop to her level and roll my eyes. Everything with her is so elementary; her comebacks, what she thinks are "witty" remarks but are only asinine comments and her emotional maturity. Or lack thereof. The only thing that isn't simple about her is her logic. She practically begs for help with her body language or facial expressions, hell sometimes she even says it aloud, but when someone, mainly _me_, goes to help her she snaps like a wild animal that's been prodded with a stick. Despite how childish she is, though, she somehow seems to know exactly where to stick the blade.

The girl crosses her arms and glares right at me before shaking her head and turning to sit at the table. Her shoulders jump as she hiccups away the remainder of her sadness and I watch her for a moment before moving to make some tea. I go to get the kettle from the fireplace and find that it's still full, so I light a fire to reheat it. All the while I can feel her eyes stabbing sharp daggers into the back of my head. When I turn around and head to the table, she refuses to look at anything but the ugly pink flowers that she's now taken to playing with. They smell of blood and rain.

"How have you been?" I ask stiffly.

If I come off too casual, she'll most likely take offense and start cutting me with her words. Then again, if I'm too serious she'll become frustrated easily and close me off, only picking and choosing the things she wants to reply to and being a complete bitch about it. Luckily for me, she actually seems eager to talk to me even though she's trying hard to appear stony faced and disinterested. When I open my mouth, she stiffens and focuses solely on me even as her fingers dance along the pale pink petals. When I shift in my seat, she stops breathing and clutches the verdant stems like a lifeline.

"You'd know exactly how I've been if you'd been here all this time. Judging by how long you've been gone, you must've gotten a huge mansion built in the damn mountains."

"I'm sorry."

She looks up, "Ya don't say?"

"Mina." I sigh as I pinch the bridge of my nose, "I left to kill Carrow."

"Wh-What?" the flowers are dropped and completely forgotten, "You killed him? Really? Holy _shit_!"

"No. I left to kill him; I didn't actually get to kill him."

Those large brown eyes of hers narrow, "Well, that's lame. How did you get away from him since he's a major clinger? What are you two bosom buddies now and you came here to bring me back?"

Accidentally and stupidly, I wince. She's up in a heartbeat and trying to make me spontaneously combust with her heated gaze. Opaque blue fabric rises and falls rapidly as she breathes and I choose to focus on her shirt rather than her accusing glare. It must have been bought by Isabela since I can see the girl's breasts beneath the airy fabric with just a hint of imagination. Of course the pirate whore would buy something like that for Mina. The golden embellishments at the sleeves and open collar are exactly that woman's taste, as is the fact that it's just long enough to reach the middle of her thighs. Though Mina is wearing leather pants, I'm sure Isabela was hoping the girl wouldn't wear _any_.

"You're here to take me back!" she accuses and I sigh.

"I'm not."

"Then why are you here? Enough pleasantries, just tell me what your purpose is for returning after all this time without so much as a letter or a rock through my window!"

"Who would throw a rock through a window?"

"Shut up and tell me!"

I can't help but smirk, "Do you want me to shut up or do you want me to tell you?"

Blood rushes to her cheeks, "You know what I mean, jackass."

I'm extremely tempted to lay everything out on the table right now, but I can't let my frustration with the girl cause me to neglect her feelings. Just as I'm about to tell her a tiny, harmless piece of information there's a knock on the door. She jumps violently, nearly knocking herself off of her own feet, and swivels her head in the direction of the door. When she lengthens her neck, I can't help but notice that the skin on the back of her neck is considerably darker than that on her throat and chest. It's a tawny color with enflamed red and pink splotches. Was she burned? I don't know, but the glare she shoots my way is almost enough to burn _me _as she points a finger at me.

"Don't you dare leave or I'll hunt you down and kill you like the dirty dog that you are."

Just to spite her, I wave her off like her words are meaningless. Her cheeks darken even more as she goes to answer the door as the person on the other side raps on the wood politely. Bright light filters in, purer than the light that struggles to shine through the grimy windows that are tainted with Lowtown filth. A figure is illuminated and my eyes quickly adjust to make out an older woman with graying hair and blue eyes that remind me of a certain demented mage. This woman's eyes have warmth in them, though, when she looks at Mina. But when she looks at me, they harden with suspicion and glance between the two of us.

"I brought you more salve, Wilhelmina." she says as she hands Mina a little glass container, "Garrett told me that you mentioned that you were running low."

"Huh." Mina blinks as she tilts her head, "I only told that to Merrill. Well, thank you very much Leandra."

The woman, Leandra, smiles, "Oh, it's no trouble at all. Who is your friend?"

"Ah, I wouldn't exactly call us _friends_." Mina drawls as she glances at me over her shoulder disdainfully, "More like acquaintances. His name is Steven Kiriyama. Steven, this is Leandra Hawke."

"Hello." I duck my head.

"Hello." she replies primly.

Mina is too busy looking over her shoulder at me to catch the way Leandra looks at her top before shooting me a stern glare. That disgruntled look is gone in a flash by the time Mina finally looks back at the woman. It happened in a matter of seconds and makes me wonder when Mina was adopted by some overprotective family. The container of salve is addressed once more as Leandra asks if Mina needs help applying it to her "wounds" and when Mina politely declines, I'm given the stink-eye again but this time it doesn't go unnoticed by the green-haired girl who makes a strange, high-pitched noise in her throat.

"Thank you, really." she says hastily, "I'm sorry I can't invite you in for tea, but I have some important business to discuss with my companion."

"Yes, of course." Leandra smiles amiably, "Have a lovely day, dear."

"You too!"

The light is cut off and Mina hurries to close the shutters. Once the last latch is securely in place, she slowly turns on me like she's preparing herself to either lambaste me or murder me. As if contemplating something, she tosses the container up and down and the only sound for a while is that of the solid glass connecting with her fleshy palm. For a moment I think she might throw the thing at me and am relieved when she places it on the windowsill before sitting back down at the table. A soft sigh escapes her as she runs her fingers through her short, messy hair that looks so much like moss.

"Why are you here, Kiri?"

Kiri.

"I needed to make sure you were safe. I'm sorry for being gone so long, but I didn't expect that I would be physically incapable of killing the mage. Do you remember… what he did to you?" she flinches but nods, "Well, he wasn't joking when he said it would help him control us. We really can't kill him, at least not by ourselves, anyway. He took that ability from us when he took our essence."

"Essence? Like souls? He has our _souls_?"

I shake my head to ease her panic, "No, they're different. Our essence ties us back to where we came from. Now we depend on Carrow to keep up in this realm because he has that part of us."

She slumps back into her chair, mouth slightly agape as her brow furrows, "Wait, what? He's keeping us here? So… if he dies _we'll_ die?"

"I'm not sure. If he dies, we could just end up going back home since our essences will be released."

Even if that were true, it wouldn't be so simple for Mina since she was dead when she came here. And I can't tell her that her essence was already destroyed in order to bring Michael over. If killing Carrow means releasing us and sending us back home, then logically the only people going back alive would be me and Michael. Mina would be dead because she _was_ dead. I can't have Carrow dying until I know exactly what will happen. I won't just blindly go into a situation with good intentions like the last couple of times. Both times, going to kill Carrow and finding out how Mina and I came to be, ended in disaster.

"That's a bit risky." the green-haired girl murmurs as she rubs at her lips, "I don't want to kill him because that _might_ send us back home. We should only do it if we know for sure that we won't end up six feet under like him. Do you know anything else?"

We.

Taking a breath, I say, "I've been with Carrow this whole time, trying to discover how he summoned us. It… didn't turn out how I had planned. He managed to summon someone else, yes, but that person is dangerous."

"Dangerous? Dangerous how?"

"He drains the souls of people with magical abilities. Our abilities happen to be magic, so we're prime targets and he's on the loose."

She winces, "Yeesh that sounds like a messy situation, Bad Luck Chuck. But what's that have to do with whether or not killing Carrow will take us home?"

"The other person is so dangerous that Carrow wasn't able to take his essence. _He _can kill Carrow, or at least threaten some answers out of him since the mage is petrified of the boy." I mull over my words carefully, "If we can get the boy to cooperate, then we can use him to squeeze information out of Carrow. I can keep the boy from being too volatile by something called 'bonding' which I can only do if I'm exposed to his ability enough."

"But isn't he dangerous? Shit, Kiri, I don't know about you but I _like _having a soul."

Pushing away from the table, I stand up and the chair screeches, "I'm not asking you to come with me. I'm just telling you what I plan to do."

She jumps up, "What? You just came here to tell me that you're planning on going on a suicide mission? Then why bother coming back at all?" she asks angrily.

"I have to do this."

"No, you don't. We can just continue to avoid Carrow and that kid. Hell, if he's really such a problem then you should just, I dunno, _kill_ the little creep not try to freakin' bond with him or whatever! If what you say is true about him attacking magical people, then there are a load of mages in danger. I'm sure if you don't kill him, someone else will do the job for you!"

I shake my head, "I'll try my hand at bonding with him first. If all else fails, then and only then will I kill him. But just keep in mind that we _need_ him. He's our best defense against Carrow. Now, I have to leave."

"Just-!"

"What is it?"

The tip of her pink tongue comes out to wet her dry lips as she looks away from me. Dejectedly, she drops back down onto her chair and refuses to look at me. With a sigh, I sit back down and scoot my chair in. Placing my hands on the table, I watch her. She doesn't even squirm like she used to when stared at for too long, doesn't even begin to mess with her scar or tug at her hair or suck in her bottom lip like she always does when she's nervous or contemplative. We just sit in silence until a hissing noise alerts me that the kettle is boiling over. When I bring it back and pour her some fragrant tea that had a note with girly handwriting attached to it, we make eye contact.

"We need to talk."

Teeth gnaw on her lip, "I know."

"So, talk. I already told you what I've been up to and what my plans are." I place a clay cup in front of her, "Tell me how you've been."

A small shoulder comes up in an indifferent shrug, "I've been better."

"You aren't well? Does it have to do with the door being open?"

Her pale green eyebrows furrow, "Bartlett is dead."

I don't feel nearly as sorry as I should, "Dead? How?"

"Got his throat slashed open. Burglar. I killed his murderer."

She's so distant that it makes me wary, "How did you kill him?"

"Broke his neck."

"Just like that? You just broke his neck?"

"Cap helped out."

I'll have to have a talk with Isabela later. Obviously I'm not going to get any details or useful information out of the girl right now. She seems to have completely shut down and is now pouting like a petulant child who didn't get her way. I have the nagging feeling that she didn't just break the burglar's neck but instead did something else involving her power. The way her shoulders stiffened a bit and her eyes glossed over when she said it is a big indicator to her lying. But I don't press it. If I press the issue, she'll stop talking all together. Clearly she's still bothered by the fat man's death. It would be best to just drop the subject completely and move on to something less distressing for her.

"What have you been up to?" I ask softly.

"I've been busy." she replies shortly.

"Busy how?"

"Busy working."

"Doing what kinds of things?"

"All sorts."

"Anything in particular? Are you still smuggling?" I ask tersely, patience wearing thing.

God, it's like pulling teeth! This is a complete role reversal and I don't like it one bit. Mina is the type of person who doesn't know how to shut up and goes on and on about nothing in particular. She can talk about someone's hair for an hour and talk about herself for ten times as long. Though, I notice that she never went into territory that was too personal. Somehow, when she would talk about herself, she was able to talk at length without going into depth but all the while made it seem like she was giving me her life story. Now, however, it's like she's pretending to be me.

"Helping people. Finding things." she bobs her head like this information will suffice.

"With who?"

Dark eyes dart up at me, "Sometimes with Cap. Mostly with a mage called Hawke, nowadays."

"Hawke. Like Leandra Hawke?" I ask curiously as I think back to the blue-eyed woman, "Is he her husband or brother?"

"Son, actually. She has two; Garrett and Carver."

"And you go on jobs with which one?"

"The eldest, Garrett. Though, sometimes Carver tags along."

"What's he like?"

"Garrett or Carver?"

I shrug, "Both."

She flushes, "Well, Garrett is an annoying busybody who doesn't know how to mind his own business and likes treating people like they're children. Sometimes I just want to punch him in the mouth or 'accidentally' stab him with a dagger. God, he's such a tool!"

My mouth twitches, "And Carver?"

"Oh! Uh, he's really cute and fun to drink with until he starts going off about how his life blows. I like him well enough. He can be sweet when he wants to be and it's kind of funny to rile him up because he blushes easily."

"It sounds like you've made some friends."

Mina shrugs before taking a sip of her tea, "Yeah. Merrill and Cap are my best friends, though. She brought this tea over, Merrill. She's a Dalish mage who uses-" she cuts herself off and seems to reassess her thoughts, "the word 'oh' far too often. I've also met a funny dwarf named Varric and a few other interesting people. How about you? Make any friends?"

I watch her carefully, knowing that she's hiding something, "Not unless you count that blonde bastard who insists on calling me 'dear friend' in every other sentence."

A snort escapes her as she takes a healthy gulp of tea, "He likes you."

"He likes you more."

She grimaces, "Ugh. I'd rather be friends with a dragon."

Immediately my mind is dragged back to the odd discoloration on her neck at the mention of a dragon. It also takes me back to when I lost Michael in the snowy region outside of Orzammar. Of course I choose to address the former, not wanting to break that news to Mina just yet. Although she seems to have reigned in her emotions during the course of our conversation, I learned long ago that she's a pretty good actress. When I leave she'll probably break down crying again even though she seems fine and I got her talking about her friends just to prove to her that she's not alone. She's too dramatic.

"Speaking of dragons." I watch as she stiffens, "What's wrong with you? Why do you need a salve for 'wounds'?"

"No reason." is her swift reply, "Leandra is senile. She always brings random stuff over for me. Once she brought a tub of water and did my laundry for me."

"Then is Garrett senile as well? He's apparently the one who told her."

"Uh…"

I sigh, "Don't try to lie to me, you idiot. I already saw your neck. Did you get burned by a dragon?"

"Yes." she pouts.

Exhaling loudly through my nostrils, I shake my head, "Only you."

Dark eyes narrow, "_Only me_, what?"

"Only you would get burned by a dragon. What, did you think you were at a petting zoo?"

With bright red cheeks, she shouts, "I didn't know they were really real! I thought all the dragonbone stuff was like how we have 'Dragon's Blood' snow cones back home! It was the first dragon I ever saw!"

I try to fight it back but I can't help but laugh, "Are you serious? So, what? Did you just let it come up to you and burn you, all the while thinking it was some sort of hallucination?"

"N-No! I was just caught off guard."

"You're always off guard." I murmur as I take a deep drink, draining my cup.

"Am not! I've actually gotten better at fighting. Hell, I can probably beat _you_ in a fight." she replies snootily, sticking her nose in the air, "Cap says I'm really good and Garrett only complains just to have something to complain ab- Ow! What the hell?"

Smiling softly, I watch as she rubs at her forehead and scrambles to pick up the cup I just threw at her. She grips it tightly in her hand, lips thinned into a line, and I can tell she's debating whether or not to throw it back at me. After a moment of contemplation, she slams it down onto the table and glares at me furiously. I offer her a shrug as I stand up and go to the window. The container of salve is slightly warm from the sunshine that drifts in through the cracks in the shutters and the salve itself looks like a thick red paste. With the container in hand, I go back to the table and put it down.

"Go ahead and put this on. I have to go."

Her mouth opens and closes for a bit, "Ju-Just stay here for a little while, okay? I'm leaving at the end of the week on a job, you can go then."

Eyes narrowing, I tilt my head towards her, "Why do you want me to stay?"

"For old times' sake. Just humor me for once." she looks away guiltily.

"I always humor you."

"Then it won't hurt you to do it again."

"Fine. I'll stay." I watch as she lets out a soft sigh of relief, "But I'm not putting that salve on you."

"What?" her cheeks flush with fury, "Nobody asked you!"

"I'm only joking, Mina." I say quickly, surprised by her violent reaction.

Brown eyes blink slowly as realization dawns on her, "Joking." she says flatly.

I nod my head slowly, "I was only ever joking. I wasn't serious."

It's silent as she watches me from her place across the table and I can only wish that her eyes weren't so expressive. I see all the hurt, the betrayal and confusion swirling around like a storm in those dark eyes. Her hands, which are folded on the table, clench into tight fists and cause her veins to bulge. Lips move almost imperceptibly before falling still, as if she was about to tell me something. I see sweat bead on her brow and suddenly I know what she wants to say and it hurts me. I've been gone for too long. She can't trust me anymore. For a moment I think she might try to compel me, but then she looks away and the expression on her face is heartbreaking.

"I know. I was kidding, too." she laughs hollowly.

"I know."

* * *

**Now I have to go and crash out after a night of studying and filming. Hope everyone has a nice weekend! **


	11. 10: Inquisition

**Yeah, sorry for the wait but my roomie recently got herself a copy of Borderlands 2 and… let's just say I'm hooked and am now obsessed with finding all the heads and skins for my characters. I mean how badass is that? Plus the new weapons are **_**amazing **_**and Handsome Jack has to be one of the funniest video game villains to date. Anyway, I wanted to get you guys before the holidays so here is the new chapter and Happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate it! **

**Shout-out to xX-LittleBlackSparrow-Xx, KrystylSky, NekoHalfBreed, Sara-hold-the-h, A Lion Heart, Pint-sized She-Bear, Annie Anonymous, AnonymouslyHere and FattySkeleton for their magically delicious reviews!**

**Love,**

**She Dictator**

* * *

10: Inquisition

"He's a good man."

"For a mage, you mean." I correct as I watch her once placid yet stern features melt into a severe frown.

She's a strange woman, this Aveline Vallen. A woman made of stone with morals and sensibilities just as solid, she certainly is a force to be reckoned with. When she stormed in here like a tornado, I was expecting her to be just like Mina's other hellion acquaintances; only here to gawk at me like a circus attraction and ask private questions about my and Mina's mythical sex life. This guardswoman is nothing like the dwarf, the blonde mage or even the solid youth with blue eyes that matched Leandra's who came by to do nothing more than glare holes into me as a bubbly elven girl oohed and awed over my tattoos before asking a million and one questions about everything and nothing.

"Take my statement however you like." she evades and I smirk, "But I'm not here to talk about Hawke. I asked you a question and you've yet to answer."

The sound of boiling water draws me to the kettle as I remove it from the fire. Flitting through an assortment of dried flowers and leaves all jarred and arranged by strength on a shelf; I pick out a fragrant tea at the end of the line with mint and elfroot and just a bit of chrysanthemum to take the edge off. Eyes like cold emeralds dig into me as I set a cup of the dried mixture before her and slowly pour hot water into it, sending a cloud of steam billowing into the air between us. Aveline sits down across from me and nods her thanks, not once losing any of the intensity in her gaze even as the air becomes hazy with heat. Obviously she won't be distracted. She came here with the sole purpose of squeezing out all the information I have on Mina for whatever reason.

"Her name is Wilhelmina Solis." I answer the simple question she had asked earlier when she nearly busted down the door, "I don't know why you asked _me_ that, Guard Captain." I eye her shiny armor warily as I slowly rotate my own cup of piping hot tea, "The girl is an open book. Compound that with the fact that she's her own favorite subject and she'll answer just about any question you have."

"Are you saying that from personal experience?"

"Yes."

Her eyes narrow, "I find that highly doubtful even if you are as good a friend of hers as you claim. Even when she is amongst her closest friends, namely Isabela and Varric, she's always very guarded."

"And you want to know what she's hiding." I state rather than question.

"Of course."

"Because?" I drawl, taking a sip of the tea which explodes with earthy flavors on my tongue, "You're obviously a busy woman with a lot on her plate. Are you off duty at the moment, or is protecting citizens not quite as high on your list as questioning a humble man about his lovely if not foul-mouthed charge?"

Freckled cheeks flush slightly, "I'll get straight to the point then. Why are you here? Moreover, why is Mina here? What purpose do you two have for being in Kirkwall when there is nothing for you here?" she handles her cup with a charming grace that doesn't fit her strong, gloved hands as she brings it to her lips, "I may serve this city, but only a fool would claim that there is enough opportunity to go around."

"So what? Is this a case of 'this city isn't big enough for the two of us'? That's an odd thing to say considering Kirkwall is so large and _there is_ a lot of opportunity for success here." I glance once more at her embossed armor which reflects the warm light from the fireplace, "Even if those opportunities are below one such as you."

"That wasn't what I was implying."

"Right." I sigh, "You want to know why someone like Mina, who has no ties to this city, is living here and in a dead man's home, no less."

Even though this is an interrogation of sorts, I have to admit that I'm relieved. From what I can tell, this woman is untouched by Mina's compulsion magic. She lacks any little dark tendrils of energy floating just above the surface of her skin; invisible to all but myself and maybe Carrow. That blue-eyed boy was crawling with them like the pirate whore but this woman has yet to have her mind invaded. So much so that she has become suspicious of the others' interest in the girl. She can't understand what draws them to Mina. She doesn't see how some self-absorbed smuggler, a meek elf or a codependent boy can flock to the green-haired girl like she's their sole source of entertainment. It's obvious that she suspects some sort of sorcery and she isn't too far off the mark. I can't have her knowing that, though.

But my relief from this discovery comes from a seed of fear that Carrow planted in my head when I told him that I was going to tell Mina my goodbyes. He gave me warnings and a crash course on Summoned history. Apparently, all Summoned go a little soft in the head according to the mage. Specters seek true release from their physical forms after feeling the freedom of being unbound energy; free to move across planes without any restrictions, unseen and untouchable. Their yearning for this freedom grows so great that eventually they kill themselves in the hopes of permanently attaining that release. Palms develop a strong dependency on the protective aspect of their powers. They become so disillusioned and paranoid that, in a frenzied state, they'll begin turning everything within reach into weapons and barriers in an attempt to protect themselves from some imagined enemy until their hearts simply give out under the strain of using their powers for an extended period of time.

The mage said that Alters are "always a bit daft" but that eventually, if they're around too much magic, they'll go on a mad crusade to slaughter every last thing that emits even the faintest bit of magic from full-fledged mages to dwarves wearing cheap amulets. They won't die on their own, though. Alters can keep going and going, the souls from their fallen victims fueling their rage and hunger. Usually _someone_ will put them down. And Eyes tend to be the most psychotic. They're the only one of the four that craves the subjugation of others. It starts off with a slow, almost harmless melding of minds to create a progeny. Then it quickly spreads like wildfire to two, three, dozens of people turned into devoted minions just so the Eye can feel all those minds, manipulate them for no real reason other than to fill some void in their own shattered psyche.

All of the Summoned either died on their own or they were "put down", as Carrow said, showing some discomfort as he read what was probably explicit detail of such an act from Aurelius' book. Due to their placement on the circle, it's the Palms that can reign in the Alters and the Specters who are able to see who is an Eye's progeny and brush off their attempts at compulsion. The opposites balance each other out and as a result they are drawn to each other by some inherent need to have the more volatile aspects of their powers kept in check. Specters are the most calm and even-tempered of the four; lacking in any sort of pernicious energy. Palms sap stamina with their auras, Alters absorb magic and Eyes drain free-will if the person is weak enough. All three draw others to them like a trap with their magnetized energy to take what they need from them.

Honestly, I was surprised to hear that Mina had made herself a progeny and immediately thought the worst. The blonde mage wasn't as surprised when he felt it. He was mostly giddy and proud like an overachieving parent but then he became a bit melancholy one day when he said that the progeny's life force had disappeared; signaling death. I didn't know that she had claimed the fat man until I came here and heard that he had died. Putting two and two together seemed to be a bit too much of an assumption and a ridiculous one at that, even if he was so obviously weak minded, until I saw Bartlett's room upstairs with the paintings of a brunette Mina ranging from childhood to adulthood and even one of a man- who looks quite similar to her- camping out in the wilderness. At first I mistook it for some gender-bending picture of the girl until I realized that the man was older. Her father, maybe? No, he looks too young.

But the portraits and murals made me fully realize her ability as the perfect weapon for Carrow. He would willingly allow her to compel him just to form a bond with her and then turn it all around to where _he_ would be the one doing all the controlling. With her at his side, he could use her to disarm his enemies by tampering with their minds if she would apply herself to mastering her ability. The blonde bastard is biding his time, I know it. I'm already one of his pawns; a creature with the mastery of stealth, able to meld into the shadows and teleport not only myself but others out of harm's way. He has a firm grip on me and I'll be the first to admit it. Although my power is strong, I lack the ability to shrug his hold from my free will. I'm backed in a corner and I foolishly allowed it. I let it happen, unaware, and only realized what was going on when it was far too late.

When I asked what would happen to the girl if she did lose control and started experimenting with her ability, Carrow simply replied that he wouldn't mind if she had a pet or two. This worried me. Worried me more than my own obvious craving for real freedom. I can control myself. I have enough restraint to keep myself from taking my own life. But Mina _lacks _control. She uses her ability left and right from stupid things like bartering to the life-threatening situations that she always seems to get herself in. I felt the change in her when I came back. Felt the dark energy that radiated off of her. Sauveterre becoming her first progeny elicited that change for better or worse and I can only assume that that energy was spoiled when he was killed; making it even more foul, making her reek like a blood mage. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who has felt this change. Judging from Aveline's grave expression, she has sensed at least a bit of it.

"We're in this city because we were fleeing the Blight." I reply swiftly as I carefully siphon more leaves into my cup, "We traveled north together, away from our families who had been exposed to the Taint. In Denerim we sought refuge and stumbled across Isabela. The pirate took a shine to Mina and offered us safe passage to Antiva. Sadly we didn't make it that far and instead landed ourselves in Kirkwall where we decided to dig in our roots." cutting my eyes to her I ask curtly, "Is that all you need to know?"

She seems to mull over my story in her head before saying, "You said 'we' quite often and yet the first I ever heard of you was from Leandra Hawke, not Mina. As far as I know, you haven't been in Kirkwall with Mina all this time. Where were you?"

She's very sharp.

"Away on business."

"What sort of business? The same business she is in?"

I snort, "Smuggling? No. I was searching for someone."

"Who?"

"You're very nosy."

She sighs tiredly, "Answer my questions and I'll answer any that you have."

"You know I'll just ask about Garrett Hawke and you seem rather touchy about that subject."

"I know." she replies primly.

"And yet you still want to make that bargain?"

"Yes."

"Alright then." I sip my fresh tea and glance at her barely touched cup, "A mage. I was looking for a mage."

"Why?" green eyes narrow dangerously, "You don't like mages. That much is obvious."

"I don't." I admit readily, "Not after what was done to me and Mina. But you don't have to worry about the girl; she's stupid enough to still trust those walking bombs so she isn't any danger to Hawke."

"The mage." she presses urgently like we're short on time.

"Tortured us for entertainment. Experimented on us like animals." I state flatly, "A _blood mage_, to be precise. He took us from our families and we escaped just in time to see them succumb to the Taint. We moved on but I swore to Mina that I would find him. I'm only back for a little while to check on Mina since we're technically in hiding because that mage considers us his property."

Silence follows shortly after and I busy myself with sipping my tea. The different flavors work together in harmony, bringing about a bold taste that feels nice and pungent on the palate. Mina hates it. Says it's too bitter and prefers to get her tea from the opposite end of the shelf where the flavors are weak and taste like perfume. The entire room is filled with the scent of elfroot and mint, overpowering the light aroma of chrysanthemum. You can smell the woodsy, decaying stench from the pulpy, half-rotted floorboards that I was cleaning before Aveline let herself in. They're already covered in a fine layer of dirt; the signature of every household in Lowtown. I hear them creak and groan as the ginger-haired woman across from me shifts back in her seat and fixes her level gaze on me. She's just as authoritative as the mage she so admires.

"Do you love her?" the guardswoman asks suddenly.

I blink, "Where did that question come from?"

"You were both wronged by this mage and yet you either don't or won't allow Mina to get revenge; which is something that we both know she would want. You're protecting her." Aveline's pale cheeks color once more, "I apologize if that question was out of line."

"Love is a strong word. I love the idea of someone like her. She's strong enough to take care of herself but she still needs the attention and affection of others, she's mostly kind but very selfish, insecure but arrogant, funny in moderation and obnoxious if you're around her for too long." a chuckle escapes me as I set my cup down, "Mina is a bundle of contradictions which is what I like. She isn't simple or easy to figure out. Maybe under different circumstances I would have considered pursuing a relationship with her. But, no. I don't love her. She's my responsibility."

Green eyes look away as the Guard Captain laughs softly to herself, "Your responsibility." she repeats, "Did you take her as your charge yourself or?"

"I did it myself. Much how you did with Hawke." the pale pink in her face deepens but I continue undaunted in my task to bridge the gap between us, "And you feel the same way about him as I do her. Under different circumstances, something could have blossomed."

"But alas not."

"Yes."

"It's best not to think on it too long." she replies quickly, already uncomfortable with the course of our conversation.

"Right." I gesture towards her tea and she hastily takes a drink, "So you came here to squeeze out answers regarding Mina. Did you get all that you wanted?"

"I did." she says warily, clearly remembering our deal, "Thank you."

"And now I get to ask you a few things about dear Garrett Hawke, your wonderful magical comrade." her eyes narrow and I ignore it, "Has he ever been to the Circle?"

"No." is her crisp reply, all warmth between us vanishing in a heartbeat.

"And he's Ferelden born, yes?"

"Yes." hands fold onto the table, "And you and Mina? You don't sound Ferelden."

"Gypsies." I reply coolly, "Our families were in the same caravan and we traveled all around Thedas. The family trees tend to be slightly obscure with our lot. Moving on… What is his family like?"

"I hardly see how that is a relevant question."

"Aveline." I tut, "Have a bit of understanding. You clearly wanted to know _all _there is to know about Mina for the safety of Garrett and all I want is the same for Mina. As her caretaker, I want to know who is taking her down into the Deep Roads on some long and harrowing expedition."

I can see the confliction in her eyes before she ultimately relents, "He had a younger sister named Bethany who was Carver's twin. Hawke currently lives in his uncle's home- Gamlen Amell is his name- with his mother Leandra and his younger brother Carver."

"_Had _a sister? And what about his father?"

"His sister was killed by an ogre when we were leaving Lothering. I don't know about his father but I do know that he passed some time ago."

"And what does Hawke do for a living?" I move on quickly from the subject since it clearly makes the woman uneasy to talk about her friend's private matters.

"He used to work for a man named Meeran as a mercenary. Now he does odd jobs for all walks of life here in the city."

"And he takes Mina along?"

"Yes."

"Why did he show an interest in her?"

Her lips thin, "We used to work jobs together but I was becoming less and less available with my guard duties and he needed a strong sword to take on missions. Varric heard word about a young woman who worked as a guard for smugglers and brought her to Hawke's attention." I'm met with a serious look and casually sip my tea, "He had her followed for a bit to make sure that she wasn't crooked like the rest of the people in that line of work. Hawke asked me to check if she had been arrested for anything serious but I found nothing. Then he had her work for him on a few easy jobs as a test before finally deciding to keep her on as a permanent member of his group."

"And does that make you jealous?"

"Of course not." she replies indignantly.

Truthfully, I want to give this woman a bit of grief for inconveniencing me and dirtying the floors. It's obvious that she's protective of Garrett Hawke and I… might as well be in Mina's corner. Who else will be in her corner of their own free will? And who else will protect her when she isn't around to defend her own name and keep nosy guards from running around under the assumption that she's some no-good lowlife thug who smuggles and kills "just because"? Aveline doesn't like the unethicalness of smuggling nor does she respect it. And I can't blame her for not trusting Mina's flippant attitude towards moral issues when it comes to killing and stealing. I have to refrain from speaking out of turn here. I'm proud of Mina for being able to fool others into thinking that taking lives is of no consequence to her when in reality she breaks down behind closed doors. Personally, I'd prefer if she didn't come unglued at every death but Mina will be Mina.

Rolling my shoulders I say, "We're done here. Thank you for your cooperation, Guard Captain."

Aveline pauses a moment before standing, ducking her head and saying, "Goodbye." before leaving as abruptly as she came.

I can't say that I really gathered a lot of information from that woman, but you can tell a lot about someone from their family. That Carver boy is an entitled brat, more arrogant and obnoxious than even Mina. His mother Leandra is protective and ruthless but she's very subtle about it with how she quickly spread word to her oldest son that a strange man was sleeping over at Mina's home and then informed the Guard Captain of all people that some outsider had infiltrated their ranks. I have to applaud that woman for being so stone faced when obviously she was taken aback by my presence that day. From Carver I gather that Garrett Hawke isn't stern enough with the people he loves; he indulges those he cares about and lets them have their way. And from Leandra I can tell that he is morally upright, quite often _uptight_, professional and strong-willed because he was raised to be so as the oldest. That much was obvious the day he came by.

The shock in his eyes was exponential and yet somehow his face remained calm and collected. He had an air of professionalism about him and something musky and familiar; magic. Golden eyes watched me like a predator, telling me that I didn't belong in that doorway, my hair shouldn't be tousled as if just roused from sleep and that I shouldn't lean against the door frame as if I "belonged". His posture clearly stated that if he were to ask a question and I answered unsatisfactorily, he would quickly dispatch me after ripping the correct answers from me. Despite all this, I remained impassive as he inquired after Mina. I took note of the way his eyes hardened when I said I was a friend of hers and had to keep a smirk from my face when he eagerly accepted the bait I laid out for him. Of course I wanted to know more about the mage named Garrett Hawke. I wanted to know about _all _the mages the girl foolishly decided to surround herself with.

The man had an odd aura. It was a strange feeling, being around him. Calm, almost smothering, but then there would be random bursts of energy that felt like a high; pure euphoria. It made my skin tingle, senses sharpen and blood sing. The magic from Hawke is so different from Carrow. The dark-haired mage's magic feels like blades running along flesh, just enough pressure to give a nice sting without breaking the skin and it turns the blood pounding in my veins into thick honey. Even though Mina claims to hate him, it's obvious to me why she stays around him. He feels dangerous but welcoming like a "tamed" tiger. So very different from Carrow's suppressing, suffocating magic that feels as though it saps your energy. There is no sadness around Garrett Hawke. There's some melancholy, but it isn't the deep, fathomless depression that permeates the air around Carrow.

So he hastily accepted my invitation to dinner and I was glad for it. I already had the intention to go out and purchase things for the home and food for dinner was at the top of my list. With the coin Carrow had lavished on me like an indulgent parent to a spoiled child, I bought meat, vegetables, flour, and all sorts of grains and teas. There was a hole in my pocket made especially for Mina as I drifted over towards a stall selling luxury items. The girl always had a tendency to lean towards floral scents so I bought all sorts of soaps made from animal milk and flowers and I purchased elixirs that promised to "make even the homeliest lady feel as if she was a queen". All the while as I shelled out coins for these frivolous things I couldn't stop thinking about the timid way Mina tried to hid her burns and scars. That ashamed look in her eyes made me buy robes and dresses and shoes.

She came home in a daze. Guilt radiated off of her like it always does when we fight, but this time she seemed miles away. There was someone else on her mind as she polished her new boots, unaware of all the things I hid for her under her bed. She bathed, we talked, and we waited for the mage to show. Everything felt so contrived, so forced like a terribly written play. The green-haired girl was walking on eggshells around me until she called my name like a gunshot in the silence. Her pale face flushed with color as she worried her lip, carved her name into the table like a hooligan child, did anything and everything to keep from looking at me as I stood before her, waiting. Our eyes met and then he knocked. Her attention left me cold as she scurried to answer the door and confirm my suspicions.

I should have known that everything would fall apart then. We argued in front of our guest when she lost what little patience she had for me and Hawke combined. The man had insulted my ability to take care of the girl and I kindly made it clear that he didn't and _doesn't_ know a thing about her and therefore can't ever know what's best for her. Of course she took offense. And now, instead of spending some time together like I thought we would, the girl has been staying out at all hours, sleeping over at the female mage's house and coming back just early enough in the morning to watch me wake up. I know she only comes by so she can see for herself that I'm still here. She's distancing herself from me to make our next separation less abrupt. I'm actually a bit happy about that. The girl learned quickly that it would be easier to sever ties this way and save herself any unnecessary stress.

Still, I would have preferred to see her a bit more often if only to tell her more about her power. Unfortunately, Mina is more focused on avoiding confrontation and letting her pals come and go here as they please so they can get a good look at me to quench their curiosity. We never have any alone time. The only time we're by ourselves is the little window of opportunity in the early morning when I wake up. Then, all she says is "Mornin'" in that country drawl of hers, points to a hot cup of tea and sweet bread for me, straps on her sword and then leaves with a "Don't wait up". The upside is that it proves to me that she isn't so dependent on others and has become more self-sufficient and I get to see who she hangs out with when her friends come over to take her away. So far the only one I like is Aveline. The dwarf is annoying and thinks he's funny, the blonde mage has an unsettling air about him, and there's no hiding the scent of blood and betrayal that comes crashing off of the female elf in waves.

They all have their own agendas, which is understandable since everyone does. I just don't like that _they're_ the people Mina chooses to spend her time with. It's obvious even to me that they're nothing but trouble and I've just met them. But they keep her relatively happy and sane which I can't complain about. The only thing that troubles me is that I don't know how loyal they are to her even if she _has_ used her compulsion on one or two of them. They aren't her progenies; therefore they won't risk life or limb for her and might even turn on her if ever they found out what she is. Not everyone would be okay with the idea of harboring a potentially dangerous creature, I'm sure, but I can't take her with me when I go to find Michael. That task in itself is dangerous enough without adding an emotionally volatile Mina into the mix.

"I'm back early today because… well… you know why." comes Mina's lilting voice from the doorway as the room is suddenly bathed in light for a moment, "Why are you sitting at the table with two cups of tea?"

She saunters over with that same, almost imperceptible gimp that she's had ever since that sword nearly took off her right leg. Sometimes it's hard to notice that she favors her left leg since she's always distracting people with outrageous comments and facial expressions. An empty bag is tossed onto the table and I watch as she scrounges around for supplies; shoving things into the sack until its fit to burst. Then she fixes me with a weighted look before sighing and tugging at her dark cowl. I know what today is. Today is the very reason why Aveline came by to do some last minute recon and why I spent hours cleaning up the house. Today is the day of the Deep Roads expedition and I want Mina to come home to a clean house after that long trip.

"I was just having a drink before I left. By the way, Aveline came by and I told her we were gypsies so if she asks you about life living in a caravan, just roll with it."

A loud sigh escapes her, "Okay, I can live with that. So were our families killed or something?" I nod and she rolls her eyes, "What else should I be prepared for?"

"I told her that we were abducted and tortured by a mage."

"Yeesh. Ain't that the truth?"

"Our families succumbed to the Taint and we put them out of their misery. After that, it was all the truth about meeting Isabela in Denerim so that lie shouldn't be too hard to handle."

She nods distractedly for a moment, lips pursed, before giving me a grim look, "Yeah, yeah. Well, you know where I'm gonna be for a while. Why don't you tell me where you're going?"

"Ferelden."

Brown eyes blink down at me, "Wow. That's rather vague. Last I checked Ferelden is a freakin' kingdom and a large one at that."

"The western part of Ferelden, then."

Mina throws her hands into the air and grabs her bag, "God it's like pulling teeth! If you don't want to tell me then fine!"

"Alright then." I say coldly and watch as she slowly simmers.

"Why won't you tell me?" she explodes.

It's a struggle not to laugh, "Just in case your little expedition ends early, I don't want you following me around. The place I'm going isn't exactly safe and neither is the boy if I happen to find him."

"Tch, get over yourself. Why would I waste my time following you around?" she blushes, pouting her lip out a bit before glaring, "And stop acting like I can't take care of myself. Smuggling stuff isn't exactly the safest thing to do, you know. It's not like I earn money selling fancy linens to harmless nobles."

"I know you can take care of yourself. Just do your job and I'll do mine."

"It's _not_ your job to find this kid."

"To me it is."

"Right." she sighs, "Right. Well, I need to get to Hightown before noon. I guess… I'll… be seeing you?"

I watch her closely, "Did you pack everything you need? Weapons? Bedroll? Clothes?"

"Yes, yes and yes."

"Health potions? Water? Food?"

"Yes, _mom_."

"Your burn salve?" I raise an eyebrow when her face goes red, "You aren't bringing it?"

She breathes heavily through her nose, "Why don't you worry about that nasty little paste of yours that you keep hidden under your pillow instead of my salve?"

My lips twitch, "Just bring your salve. You don't know if you'll need it or not and it'll be best to have it just in case."

Arms cross as she shifts her weight, "I already did. Y'know, this is a pretty crappy goodbye."

"What?"

"We're supposed to be saying our goodbyes since we won't be seeing each other for a while and all we're doing is arguing about salves and smelly pastes. This isn't exactly how I pictured it playing out in my head."

"Really? What were you expecting?"

"Streamers. Lots of confetti and cake and maybe even a pony dyed sea-foam green." is her airy reply.

"Sounds more like a celebration."

"Oh, the pony would be for you to remember me by. And the streamers and confetti would be a nice, solid black with some gray here and there. The cake would be shaped like a gravestone if that makes you feel any better. It would say 'R.I.P. Team Adventure' with little red rosettes."

My brow furrows as she grins, "Team Adventure?"

"Eh." she shrugs, "It would save more frosting than putting both our names. They charge by the letter."

Her small frame is by the door but she seems reluctant to go as she draws out the fantasy. The tip of her nose is a bit pink and her eyes are rimmed with red, fingers dancing along the door handle but refusing to really take hold of it. I ask her why the pony would help me remember her and she says it's because it's smaller than an actual horse, brightly colored and you aren't allowed to ride it if you're too big. She barely gets out the last part in between hysterical laughter that sounds a lot like choked back sobs. I humor her with a laugh and she shoots me a grin before wrenching open the door with unnecessary force. I tell her to check under her bed when she gets back and she asks with a straight face if I took a dump under there. Waving her off, I say to just look and she presses her lips into a forced smile and nods.

Her throat jerks as she swallows, "Bye, Kiri."

"Goodbye, Mina."

* * *

**Now I need to go and work on some math homework… and Borderlands.**


End file.
